


Captive Words

by WordsinTheFrost



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: Angst, Family, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-03
Updated: 2012-11-11
Packaged: 2017-11-09 03:00:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/450518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsinTheFrost/pseuds/WordsinTheFrost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After returning to Asgard with Thor, Loki faces judgment while those around him act in despair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The feeling of transposition caused by travelling the Bifrost was a memory still not far from Loki’s mind. Despite having briefly felt the raw power of the Tesseract running through his veins, the experience of alternating between worlds via the cube was something else entirely – while the magical bridge had felt smooth and solid, like walking on running water on hasty feet, using the Tesseract to transport two gods back into another realm was a brutal sensation that made Thor and Loki feel detached from their own bodies, the firm grip on the cylinder which held the cube being the only reminder of another presence during the traversing. Although harsh, the journey into the very entrance of Asgard was quick and soon they were both facing the golden gates of the city, where a faint mist covered the air and the magic running through the realm was almost palpable – Odin’s sorcerers where still hard at work on repairing the Bifrost, but it would take decades to restore what Mjölnir had destroyed in mere seconds.  


Staggering briefly on his feet, Loki immediately felt his brother’s hand on his arm, trying to steady him before Loki could reply with a shove and a vicious glare.  
“Ah, Heimdall.” Loki turned his gaze back to the gates where the keeper was standing, firm as a golden statue which almost passed unnoticed in front of the same coloured gates, “it’s good to see you so soon, my friend.”  


Heimdall offered Thor a short nod, “Prince Thor,” and gave Loki a long glance, his face betraying nothing but his resentment evident, “I see your mission has been successful, I imagine the Alfather must want to hear about it at once.”  


Thor nodded in reply and placed a hand on Loki’s arm again, this time meeting no resistance, “Aye, I shall have words with him right now.”  


Trying to work his aching jaw against the cold metal of the muzzle, Loki fixed Heimdall with murderous eyes before sensing Thor nudging him forward and following him through the gates. The walk to the palace itself was long and vexing on Loki, although the streets were deserted and he wouldn’t have to put up with the people’s… surprise? Fear? Disgust? He did not know how much the population of Asgard was allowed to know of the recent events but Loki was certain the imminent destruction of Jotunheim and the conspiracy to take over the Asgardian throne were common knowledge by now; he had never been beloved – tolerated, yes; feared, sometimes, but never loved. The people’s love was for Thor, the golden prince who would soon take the crown and rule Asgard for centuries of new found glory, having returned from his exile wiser and kinder than the Alfather himself could have hoped. Loki grimaced behind his restrain and let himself be led the entire way, unable to help feeling thankful for whatever caused the emptiness of the place – time enough for mass terrorising later – if he could not be King he would not be a laughing stock either.  


Thor’s silence was surprising to Loki, having expected his so called brother to begin his endless and insufferable word play on redemption and forgiveness as soon as he had the chance to do so again. Loki was both glad and enraged at the small feeling of emptiness which sat on his stomach – the moment he rejected Thor’s final plea by stabbing him must have sunk a lot lower in Thor’s mind than he thought.

As soon as their feet touched the palace’s entrance, the doors swung open with barely a whisper and two guards made their way to receive the trickster and his captor.  
“My Prince, the Alfather will see you immediately in the Crown Hall”, one of the guards bellowed to the empty space in front of him, keeping his eyes respectfully off Loki’s undignified stance.  


Thor nodded curtly and walked ahead of the guards, pulling Loki along, and the gates closed firmly behind their backs. The main hall was filled with a mere dozen of Asgardian guards, all with firm postures which left no room for analysis – _‘they are good’_ , thought Loki, _‘I imagine they are dying to look at me openly, to see the little scoundrel dragged back to his cage as a war criminal’_. Finally at the Crown Hall, Thor was announced into the room by the guard at the entrance and the still far away figure of Odin stood up from the throne in the opposite side of the Hall where his throne seemed to be the only thing noticeable against the plain walls.  


“Approach.”, commanded the Alfather’s echoing voice.  
From the distance, Loki could see he sat alone, Frigga’s absence was both a relief and a bother to Loki who did not know what to expect of his adoptive mother, she was too fond of emotion for his liking, whether she would react with joy or heartbreak to his return and the state of it, Loki did not want to fathom.  


They approached the throne and, under Odin’s never wandering gaze, Thor finally let go of his brother’s arm and kneeled, keeping a motionless expression on his still injured face. Loki glanced briefly at his torso and quickly identified the slit in his armour where his blade had pierced mere hours earlier, the amount of dry blood proving the shallowness of the injure.  


“My son. I am glad to see you back with us unharmed.” Odin descended the couple of steps at a slow pace, the recent graveness of events gnawing on his already heavy mind. He motioned Thor into rising and placed a hand on his shoulder, ignoring Loki in favour of offering his heir a tired smile. “I thank you for resolving the matter so quickly, you have proven yourself once more.” Loki could not gather the energy to roll his eyes at that and would have hardly have had the chance to do it before Odin’s gaze was on him, taking in his shackles and his muzzle before setting firmly on his leering eyes, “And you, my son. It gives me great joy to have you back, no matter under which circumstances.” At the mention of himself as Odinson, Loki jerked violently against his restrains, immediately feeling Thor’s physical presence near him, preventing him from truly fighting. _‘I am not your son! You will all pay, I will take what is rightfully mine and you shall all pay then! You do not know what is coming!’_ All these unspoken works fought at the surface of Loki’s lips, stubbornly blocked by the steel at his mouth. His gaze would have to be enough, Loki assumed as he looked at the Alfather with as much hate as he could muster. Odin ignored his protests and placed both hands on his shoulders, the tight grip sharply noticeable even beneath his armour, Loki froze and waited, “I do not need to tell you this as I’m sure you are aware of it, but the manner in which you have been brought back was forced by yourself and not a mere capriccio from our part. You have hurt many, Loki, you have destroyed innocent lives in the name of your thirst for power and your madness has proven beyond repair. For that, I am truly sorry, my son.” Feeling the last remark as a slap to the face, Loki let himself fall under the stern pressure of Odin’s hands, landing hard on his knees before the Alfather and fixing him with now blood-red eyes as he let his true form take place, the blue quickly eating through his pale Aesir façade. Thor sucked in a shocked breath by his side but remained in his place. Odin merely let his expression grow sadder as he took a step back and regarded Loki’s figure briefly before sighing deeply and continuing, “For all the wrong I have done you, Loki, I deserve no apology, but know that no matter what blood runs in your veins, you are of Asgard and you are my son. Your mother was left heart-broken ever since she learned of your treachery… your fall is still mourned across the entire realm.”  


 _‘Lies. Lies. You call me silver tongued and yet all you still do is lie!’_ , his sharpened vision while in Jotum form undulated slightly as he felt tears prickling against his eyes.  


“Your crimes as King Regent two years ago shall meet no punishment at my hand. Your brother has never held you any grudge to begin with so you require no forgiveness from him.”, Loki looked sharply up at Thor, whose head was bent down, his face unreadable. “For your doings in Midgard, however, you shall meet Asgardian justice, as it is here your home, and I your King. You shall remain in custody of the royal guard as you await your sentence, deprived from any connection to the outside… and deprived of all weaponry.”  


Weaponry? Loki fought a frown and was momentarily disgusted at the cold trail left by a treacherous tear which slowly made its way down his cheek. He let himself return to his Aesir form and from the corner of his eye saw Thor’s posture relaxing a little. Odin got down on one knee and placed a hand against the steel muzzle trapping the trickster’s words, “Your magic will serve you no purpose here for it is weak and detached from its core now that the Tesseract is kept safe. Therefore you shall be deprived of your strongest weapon.”  


“Father—," Thor begun, suddenly understanding.  


“I will not hear another word on the matter, Thor. Your brother will fulfil confinement in limited freedom, but he will not be allowed to plot any form of escape or manipulate others. That is my final saying.”  


Loki’s eyes widen as two guards approached him from behind and he felt a gentle nudge on his ribs propelling him to stand up. As he did so, he was immediately taken a hold of, one guard grabbing at each of his arms and pulling him into an upright position facing the King. Odin walked slowly back towards the throne, turning to his sons once more and giving Thor a stern look before directing his words at Loki and his handlers, “You shall be taken to your chambers, cleaned, your gag removed and your wounds shall be cleansed. You shall then await us, as your last words may be spoken in the fashion of your understanding… have mercy on your mother, Loki, if you are unfit to show it for anyone else, at least to the smallest of kindness for one who loves and cares for you so,” at Loki’s barely noticeable flinch, Odin gestured the guards away, who pulled the prisoner with great effort in the direction of the once-prince’s chambers. Loki had finally reached the meaning behind Odin’s sentence and the prospect in front of him was just unbearable enough to make a wave of fresh anger flare through his mind between a stream of curses and threats continuously muted. Soon enough he’d have a chance to scream all the monstrosities he desired but the point in it seemed lost now that his future was certain…. At least for the moment, at least until the inevitable happened. 

Loki knew his feats in Midgard were not to be pay for in the simple form of Asgardian justice – no, there were many things, big things coming, and his adopted family and their beloved human pets had no idea of the collective price to pay for their victory and Loki’s defeat. Silence seemed like a much more rewarding option at the moment, especially considering he’d probably be accused of lying once again – lying to save his skin, lying to seed panic, lying as it is the only thing he could do anymore and soon the only thing he would never be able to do again.

His chambers were surprisingly unchanged – the wooden shelves filled with books and trinkets seemed just the same as Loki had left them over two years ago; only his bed was empty of any layers, with a single silver sheet covering the entire surface and a small beige rose laying on top of the shape of the pillows – a token from Frigga who had no doubt been there more often than Odin had wanted her to – Loki could imagine her restless and ageless form standing next to the bed frame, looking out of the window at the skies covered in magical dust from the reconstruction of a moment which had marked the return of a son and the lost of another. The thought did little to prepare Loki for what he was to face next, as he was forced into his once favoured bone crafted chair and the shackles on his wrists divided to circle each armrest and bond his arms to the structure. The guards moved away from the prisoner and came to rest on each side of the door, as a group of four well-known Court healers entered the room on unsteady feet, each bowing before Loki but never meeting his eyes. Loki wanted to spit at their feet.  


His clothes were slowly removed, his hair was briefly brushed back before being run by warm perfumed water, the familiar smell making Loki gag slightly at both the memories and the nature of the act. His torso was covered with purple and blue extensions, small cuts and several random pieces of detritus which had somehow found their way beneath his armour during the fight in New York. One of the healers placed her palms gently against his abdomen, applying pressure and murmured “Two broken ones” at his pained reaction once the areas were compressed against each other. As another healer worked his way around a small amount of glass shards buried into Loki’s left hip, the old female who had probed his ribs produced a familiar jar of ointment from her vast robes and applied the mix generously on the bruised area – Loki had experimented with and made use of such substance many times before, having himself perfected the original formula in his teen years, much to his father’s approval and his brother’s gain, since Thor had surely been the only person in all the realms to need it so often after his mindless hunting and endless sparring sessions with the warriors three and lady Sif – the tang of magick emanating from the burning on his abdomen told Loki this was his old recipe and the irony of it was not lost in him.  


After his entire body had been carefully washed with linen cloths and some sort of aloe, his hair was tied with a piece of white string and his eyes were offered a cold bandaging which barely registered against Loki’s numb face muscles. After dressing him in plaid common robes, taken from his own dressing closet, no doubt, the healers bowed once more and removed themselves, crossing paths with the Queen, already waiting on the outside of the chambers.

Frigga had never considered the possibility to have her son brought back to her broken beyond repair. The simple remote idea of not facing the same Loki ever again seemed so alien to her that she had never even given the possibility more than a brief fleeting thought. The tales of Loki’s mischief in other realms did not run freely in Asgard, but Odin was kept aware through accurate reports by Heimdall. Whispers flew the kingdom, rumours and inflamed opinions were just around the corner; but every murmur, every discussion, be it mere jesting or full-on drunken debates always seemed to cease in the Queen’s presence. Frigga’s immense love for her children was no mystery to the realm, and the entire kingdom seemed to have come to a silent agreement to spare her of any further penance than the one she had been carrying ever since Thor returned and Loki fell to his supposed death. Her mourning had been faint to the outside viewer and yet endless – her face had aged more in those two years than it had in centuries and the Queen’s frequent absence on royal meetings and feasts had not gone unnoticed. The day Thor was summoned to the throne room in private – the day Odin had returned from his early meeting with the bridge keeper with a grave expression and a silent nod to her – Frigga knew he had news of their youngest, she knew they were bad news and yet the overwhelming feeling of hope which had blossomed inside her had been the best thing she’d felt since the moment Thor had first walked the great hall on his failed coronation day. The knowledge of Loki’s behaviour, his thirst for power, his treaty with the Chitauri, his mindless killing… all seemed secondary to Frigga, to whom the most important thing was to have her youngest son back in her arms and whichever care he needed would be provided in time. Now standing just a few paces away from whom she had been aching for, facing Loki seemed vaguely terrifying – the muffled sounds of thrashing from inside the chambers and the glimpse of the bloodied bandages the healers carried on their way out caused a cold feeling of fear to creep up Frigga’s spine and settle in the back of her mind. What if Loki was lost to the world? What if he had nothing but poison to share with his once-family? What if— No. Whatever her son needed was not beyond their reach. She could give him anything – time, love, warmth, forgiveness… anything he might require to be whole again. Yes, this was merely an accident, a dark chapter of their history and a trial imposed to the strength and compassion which had held the house of Odin for hundreds and hundreds of years and would for many ages to come. Delicately wiping a tear which had found its way into her cheek, Frigga took a deep breath and slowly turned to make her way into the hall to wait for her husband and son before finally facing Loki.

The force of Odin and Thor’s voices as they argued was enough to make the grounds quiver – twice now had the Alfather slam Gungnir at the throne’s feet to put an end to the matter, but Thor remained adamant in fighting his father’s judgment and his voice boomed with defiance and horror.  


“It is cruel and aberrant!”  


“It is my decision and you shall abide by it as will everyone else! Loki cannot be allowed any means of escape. You grew side by side, you know him better than anyone – how long do you think it will take for him to poison innocent minds? To twist the will of any alien party to serve his purposes? I wish his misery no more than you do but this punishment is not only fit as it is necessary!”  


Suddenly aware of the firm grip in which he was holding Mjölnir against his thigh, Thor forced himself to relax and even his voice, without meeting much success, “Father, as always, I respect your wisdom. But a punishment like this will only fuel Loki’s hatred for all of us. We’d be treating him no better than he treats the mortals. He would rather meet death than this, of that I am sure. Surely there must be another way.”  


“Enough, Thor.” Odin’s words had quickly turned weary, “We shall meet with Loki in his chambers and have his final words. I did not want to have your mother along for this, but she left me no other choice. I fear her expectations, however negative they might be, will be greeted with further devastation as soon as we allow Loki with his silver tongue once again,” descending unto Thor’s side, Odin searched his son’s eyes until he found the smallest spark of regretful acceptance, “Come.”


	2. Chapter 2

Joined by Frigga, who had turned halfway towards the chambers, the King and future King of Asgard walked sternly to Loki’s chambers, where he had been left alone save for the two guards still lingering on the outside of the door. Giving his mother the best reassuring look he could, Thor moved to her side behind Odin as the Alfather gestured the guards aside and pushed the door open in a swift motion. The sight of Loki, his hair longer than she had ever seen it, his face shallow, his eyes dark and venomous, the tense lines of his body as his wrists still strained against the magical bonds… Frigga ran past her husband and knelt by her youngest, bringing a hand to where the pale flesh of his chin met the unforgiving cold of the metal muzzle, “My son…” Loki’s brow tightened and he cast his gaze to the side, “My Loki, you are home,” Frigga moved his head so that he was forced to face her, his visage unreadable and blurred from the tears covering Frigga’s eyes and now running freely down her cheeks, “My son, my son, my son.” Thor watched in misery as his mother stood up and forcefully cradled Loki’s head against her chest, her tears leaving thin wet trails on his black hair and her now uncontrollable hiccups filling the room; Loki had stopped fighting against his restraints and now his arms hung limp against the armrests, his wrists bruised and swollen from the strain he had put them through. Placing a hand on his wife’s shoulder, Odin separated the two figures and tried to soothe the Queen by pressing her against his own chest; Loki’s expression turned from unreadable to furious in a matter of seconds and he eyed Odin with red cheeks and angry eyes as he recommenced his struggle against the chains.  


“It is of no use, they will not give in,” Odin’s free hand hovered against the muzzle and Loki’s eyes widened a fraction, “You shall be granted your last minutes of speech before you are to meet your punishment as dictated by myself, Odin Alfather.”  


Thor felt himself tense automatically as Odin pressed his now gleaming hand against the muzzle and it let out a sharp metallic screech before displacing itself from around Loki’s jaw and falling to his lap with a faint thud. Despise his fears, mostly for his mother than for himself or Odin, Thor was surprised to see Loki remain silent, pressing his lips angrily against each other, his whole body trembling with barely contained fury. After a moment in which Loki worked his tense jaw, his words came low and vicious. “You have no idea of what is coming. Silencing me will accomplish nothing, for I am now expendable and will bring unending misery to the filthy house of Odin. I’d rather die right here and now than be kept around as a mute pet worthy of mockery and disgust. Be done with me, or live to face the consequences.”  


A smothered choke escaped Frigga from where her face was buried in the Alfather’s shoulder and Thor made towards her briefly before catching himself and choosing instead to gaze upon Loki with as much impassivity as he could, “You are no pet to be kept, you are Odinson just as I am, your blood matters not to us, you are family, and if you were to see the error of your ways—”  


“Then what?! You’ll forgive me and I’d go from living in your shadow to being the Court’s fool? The little jotun runt who got spared by the never ending mercy of the great Alfather?” Giving his chains a sharp tug, Loki spat at Odin’s feet and ignored Thor’s glare in favour of giving him a smile which made the Prince remember seeing his arrogant stance inside the cage fashioned for Dr. Banner in the Helicarrier. “My actions already sat in motion something far bigger than what you and your small band of earthling heroes faced in Midgard. The doom of Asgard is imminent whether I live or die, and I’d rather face a thousand centuries in Hel than to receive one drop of your foolish compassion.”  


Thor took a step forward in a threatening manner and made to speak before Odin extended one arm in front of him, “What does he speak of? Haven’t the Chitauri been blocked from accessing Midgard?” Frowning in confusion, Thor asserted and Odin sighed deeply in spite of Loki’s small bitter laugh echoing in the room, “You shall not be allowed further words, Loki. Your tongue deceives and eludes us all, and therefore shall not be allowed to act ever again.”  


“Father—”  


“Enough, Thor!”  


Thor turned to Loki and saw his expression harden as the Alfather knocked Gungnir against the ground once more and the door swung open to reveal one of the oldest Crown magicians holding a small wooden box and a silver basin filled with clear water. The man, Falthri his name was, was no stranger to the Odinsons, being ever present as a tutor, a counsellor and an assiduous presence in Court; he gave Odin a small nod and the expression on his face was one of deep concern and bitterness. Thor approached Loki and laid a hand against the side of his neck, looking down at him and registering the tensing of the muscles beneath his hand, “For what is worth, know once again that you are among people who wish you only the best. I’m sorry for this, but the matter was beyond my grasp… maybe someday—”  


“Thor!” Odin yelled at his back making Frigga jerk in surprise, “I said enough of this!”  
Thor nodded gravely and gave Loki’s neck a last squeeze before turning to Falthri and looking down at the objects in his hands with disgust, “I apologise, Falthri, for you are also my friend and a long time friend of the House of Odin. Do what you have been ordered to do and know that this shall birth no grudge between us.”  


Ignoring Odin’s new argument, Thor took the Magician’s short bow as sign of understanding and apology and turned to leave the room when Loki’s scream stopped him on his tracks, “Where does the future King go? Too regal to see your so called own blood be maimed like an animal? Is it too low an action to be witnessed by your eyes, brother?” Loki’s anger was eating through him now, as his attempt at a mocking tone failed miserably to turn his speech desperate and terrified.  


Thor remained with his back turned and moved his head to the side to give Loki the last words he could ever reply to, “I’m so sorry, brother” before leaving the chambers and closing the door behind him, Loki’s screams of fury and later of pain ringing in his ears for the remaining time it took him to leave the palace and seek some matter of comfort in the outside breeze.

As soon as the door banged behind Thor’s back, Loki’s thrashing and yelling reached a whole new level, greatly affecting Frigga, who squirmed out of Odin’s grasp and ran out of the room, causing the guards to come inside and grasp Loki’s arms and neck in a tight hold, preventing him from struggling as Falthri approached him and laid his tools on a small stool nearby. The silver needle was oiled and glistened in his grasp as he took the small roll of thick black string fashioned from the cords of Alklha’s muscle and magicked by the Alfather himself many decades ago – Loki’s wounds would heal quickly but the perforations would remain fresh and clean enough to avoid any sort of infection and maintain the string in place. Under the guards’ strong lock and Odin’s sad eye, Falthri rested an aged hand on the side of Loki’s chin and brought the needle to pierce the corner of his bottom lip; blood pooled immediately around the intrusion but the string crossed the inside of Loki’s mouth with a sickening wet sound and appeared once again at his upper lip. Loki screamed as much as he still could against the partial magical barrier, his skin flittering between peach and faint blue and his eyes flashing red with the pain. Odin finally averted his gaze and rested a weary hand against his forehead as Falthri continued his stitching work and Loki’s cries mingled with choked sobs which sent fresh gushes of dark red blood running down his chin and made the elder man pause to run a moistened towel against the wounds. When he was finally done, the magician clasped a hand gently against Loki’s mouth and sent a faint healing wave against the pulsing puncture wounds, slowing the bleeding and causing a faint purpling to spread around his lips. Long gone limp in his captors’ hold, Loki wheezed rapidly through the stitches and forced the oxygen in and out of his running nose as the pain on his mouth dulled slightly only to flare at every contact it made with the salty water drying on his cheeks. Some time after the third puncture he had given up on trying to pin Odin with his gaze and had simply screwed his eyes shut against the blurry vision and the dizziness the sparks of pain were causing him. Now that the magician had finished his careful handiwork and sealed the string with a basic sort of healing spell, Loki was left to feel the burn of his wounds and to see the look of sadness in his former tutor’s face; Falthri stood up and bowed to the Alfather before collecting his tools and leaving the room.  


Odin finally looked at Loki, his gaze weary and his grasp on Gungnir tight-knuckled – he hung his head and a deep sigh escaped him, “Loki Odinson, you have been here punished by your mischief and arbitrary murder, for the deaths of hundreds of innocents and the subjugation of thousands more. I, Odin Alfather, say that you are to stay in Asgard under limited freedom, deprived of speech and of any form of mystical energy,” the staff was raised and a sense of dread filled Loki’s chest as it was pointed at him with clear intent, “I now take from you your magick. In the name of my father, and his father before. May this punishment hold from today until the end of times.” A bluish mist formed at Loki’s chest at the sceptre’s command and the sudden grasp at his magical core made him jerk in his seat, the dulling pain and shock still too heavy to allow a stronger reaction. As quickly as it had begun, the feeling of all magical mater being swiftly burned from him dissipated in a second, leaving only a pang of emptiness somewhere unreachable; Loki looked upon himself as the glowing detached itself from him and travelled the air in the form of a delicate cloud of haze and came to warp against Odin’s weapon.  


Worst than the lost of his words, losing his magick – the only thing about himself he had ever taken pride in – made Loki’s vision dim with anger, a number of veins throbbing at his forehead as the impeccable sewing at his mouth allowed him no more than the barest inch of room between his parted lips, of which Loki made the best use he could by letting out a furious muffled screech as Odin lowered Gungnir and said his final words at his lost son, “We wait in hope, still, that you might be returned to us, Loki. You are still my son and the weight of the wrong I have caused you should be mine to bear and mine alone. Again, I am sorry, but you know that this is no more than what you have cast upon yourself; your actions claimed a death wish I shall not abide by. You are of this house and your family will nurse you as best as we can and forever await your return.” Giving the guards holding Loki a short nod, Odin left the room, the other men close on his tracks. As soon as the door closed behind them, the chains binding Loki to the armchair loosened fractionally against his wrists and ankles until ultimately falling to the ground in a graceful pile with no sound at all. Silence. This was Odin’s punishment – Loki’s own kind of prison, a cage made of weakness and shade – everything he’d ever excelled in, magick and lies, stripped from him. Odin was no fool, his judgment was meant not only to incapacitate the dark core Loki had fed in the last years but also to make it nearly impossible for him to readapt in a similar fashion. No, he was now forced to live as a crippled pet whose physical freedom was wide enough to elude the notion of imprisonment but whose tools of action were rendered useless.  


Rubbing at his wrists experimentally, Loki finally trusted himself to stand on barely steady feet, kicking the shackles aside with a look of disgust, his grimace straining against the tight hold of the stitches, and approaching the large mirror opposite his bed to examine his figure closely – his wet hair was loosely tied behind his skull, several strands plastered around his face, fallen during his struggling; the dark rings under his puffy eyes would have been the only reference point in his pale visage if it were not for the glistening black cord lacing his chapped lips shut; the bleeding had stopped, giving place to a constant throbbing emanating from the heated and swollen flesh. The trickster allowed himself to admire the stitching work for a second – the needle had been precise and merciless and Loki felt a mix of anger and respect towards his old magick tutor. Falthri had been a constant presence in Loki’s teenage years, adverting him against the ill effects of the darkest enchantments while grudgingly admiring Loki’s work at the same time; high born Asgardians were known for their skill in battle first and only then for their usage of magick; Loki’s had been the product of inapt skill and never-ending practice, having soon discovered his lean form and quick wit were not crafted for physical battle but for duels of the mind.  


His face and neck felt raw with remains of dry blood and tears forming a disgusting dark sheen against his skin and the collar of his robes; locating the smallest of bruises on the side of his forehead, Loki pressed one finger against it, conjuring up the most basic form of healing spell – something his teen-self would have been capable of in his sleep – and watched in silence as the flesh remained tender and matted with a sickening shade of yellow. After several minutes looking at his new reflexion, Loki let out a furious growl and pushed against the mirror, sending it crashing to the ground.


	3. Chapter 3

Ever since Thor left for Midgard following the news of his brother’s survival, the training routine of the warriors three and the Lady Sif had been greatly disrupted, be it either for bitterness at Thor’s express command to be left to go on the mission alone, surprise at whatever little information they were allowed on Loki’s actions or dismay on seeing Thor so intent on getting him back not for punishment but for forgiveness. “He should have been back by now,” said Sif, dealing a particularly vicious spar against Volfragg’s side, making him frown.  


“Come now, Sif, it has only been a couple of days. You know Thor is hardly likely to meet any major adversities on Earth, not only do the mortals worship him but he also has Mjölnir bound to him more strongly than ever.” Fandral lay against a wall, wiping at his forehead and watching as Hogun made a handful of blades fly at the nearest wooden pillar, “I’m sure he’ll be back in no time, no reason to get worked up about it.”  


Volfragg barely managed to dodge Sif’s last attack and let out a grunt, “and hopefully bring Loki in chains never to be released.” Sif nodded gravely but Hogun stood still for a moment before speaking in a tense tone, “Loki has proven himself the worst breed of traitor but our friend will not see it the same way as we do.”  


“Well surely he must be punished, if he survives, I mean,” Fandral discarded his sword and approached the others, “if the rumours are true he planned to have an entire realm destroyed and now Odin knows how many others.”  


“He’s grown mad with jealousy, in my opinion, but Thor refuses to see—”  


“I’ve recently grown to taking pride in being able to see more clearly than ever.” Thor’s voice sounded harsh as he made his way to his friends, meeting guilty smiles mixed with expressions of relief. Thor nodded at the warriors, “My friends.”  


Sif and Volfragg ceased their sparring and came to offer Thor a warmer welcoming, patting his back and taking in his injuries; Fandral was the one to break the uncomfortable silence. “Thor! We’re so relieved to have you back!”  


“Yes, the matter was solved rather shortly,” absently, Thor brought a hand to his injured side, wincing at the sudden lash of pain.  


Sif eyed the small wound, her eyes judgmental, “But you are hurt. You must go to the healing ward at once. Have you not met with the Alfather yet?”  


“I have just returned from my brother’s chambers,” the warrior exchanged worried glances, “our father was left there to deal his justice upon Loki.”  


Reading Thor’s hardened expression as warning, Fandral spoke carefully. “So he’s back… everything went for the best?”  


Thor was now staring at the row of blades buried upon the pillar and replied, “I’ve brought my brother home, but I do not see eye to eye with my father as far as punishment is concerned. I fear Odin’s idea of justice will only bring further anger unto Loki’s heart.”  


After a few seconds of silence, Hogun moved and began removing the blades from the wood pillar and spoke up neutrally, “What has your father ruled?”  


When Thor failed to reply, Volfragg nudged him on the arm playfully, “Worry not, my friend, the Alfather has always proved to know best!” He boomed, “We should worry ourselves in celebrating your safe return instead!”  


Without further words, Thor made a fleeting motion of recognition and left, cradling his now burning abdomen where the stab wound had reopened from its frail healed state.  
Sif elbowed Volfragg, “What?!”  


“You control not your tongue. Thor is clearly upset about whatever the Alfather has decided to do with Loki.”  


“I wouldn’t object to sealing his mouth shut,” Fandral laughed with no humour, “Call me simplistic but it seems to me that silver tongue of his has always been his greatest weapon from the beginning.”  


Sif leered at him but felt the statement ring inside her as surprisingly wise, “We mustn’t forget the King and Queen still think of Loki with affection, and Thor… Thor seems to be forever tied to him in one way or another, even if they are not really blood.”  


“The blade,” the others turned at the sound of Hogun’s voice, “that wound Thor was holding was no normal battle injure, that was the stabbing of a traitor.”  


“…You think…?”  


Hogun nodded and moved to put his set of blades away in silence while Fandral frowned in confusion, “Loki was never one to miss his target.”  


“Maybe Thor simply bested him, has he always has in the past,” said Volfragg.  


Sif shook her head, “That stab was dealt from the front to the side,” she pointed to a point just below Volfragg’s ribs, “about… here. Hardly deadly, only temporarily incapacitating.”  


“Maybe they were in the midst of combat.”  


“Or maybe he couldn’t bring himself to kill Thor. For all his wickedness, Loki never struck me as a cold blood murderer.”  


“Well, regardless of what it was, all which matters is that Thor is back safely. Well, safely enough, and there is sure to be a welcoming feast in a few hours!”  


Fandral clasped Volfragg’s shoulder, laughing, “It would take the imminent destruction of Asgard to pull you away from some food, wouldn’t it, my friend?”  


The warriors shared a moment of good spirits, the prospect of normality starting to sink back in their minds.

Unable to face any familiar face, Thor made his way into the healing ward, intent on having the pesky wound dealt with as soon as possible and likely isolate himself in his private training hall for the rest of the noon. The female healer by the door bowed deeply at him and, giving his bloodied armour a pointed look, motioned him into a private bedchamber into with Thor entered grudgingly, sitting at the foot of the bed and shedding his ruined cape before the young woman returned with a number of medical instruments and bandages with which she dressed Thor’s wound, a flick of recognition passing her face swiftly – asgardian steel was not often found outside the realm and the rumours surrounding Thor’s departure were more than enough to make it easy to assume the cause of what she was dealing with. “Thou shall have to take rest and small effort for a few days.” Thor grunted a general assertion and stood, making the healer jump and murmur an apology, “I’m terribly sorry, your Highness.”  


“No need for apologies, my mind is merely restless.”  


“No, I mean… I _am_ sorry.”  


Thor eyed her sad expression in confusion before understanding what she meant, “Thou were there.” It was not a question. She nodded and bowed once more before retreating back to her post, leaving Thor feeling lost for a moment until the ointment applied to his wounds started to burn feverishly and he stirred back into reality.  


After dressing himself once more, Thor looked down at the bloodied metal of his chest plate and brushed his fingers through the slit made by Loki’s blade; swallowing a string of words which rushed to him, he made his way to his own chambers to get rid of his abused battle gear. On the way, Thor was met with many servants which offered him delighted greetings, bows and words of praise – never had his people loved their future King so – and yet Thor responded to each merry look with alienation and forced smiles. Dealing with the war in Midgard had been the easy part; getting his family back was the battle Thor was truly dreading and yet the one which stood blatantly at his doorstep.  


He thought briefly back to Loki’s last statement – as he had expected, the fate Odin had chosen for him had been met with dread and as far as Thor could see, Loki was sincere when he claimed to prefer death to the Alfather’s punishment. The Loki Thor had met on Earth was deluded, mad, lost… but not suicidal; his brother’s gaze had craved acceptance, not punishment, and yet he was unbreakable in his cage of self-hatred and thirst for revenge upon his former family. For the past two years a never-ending number of scenarios had played upon Thor’s mind – a scenario in which his foolishness had not led him into Jotunheim three years ago and they had all lived in blissful ignorance; a scenario in which Odin had been honest about Loki’s birth since the beginning and Loki had still grown bitter in Thor’s shadow but had worked hard in creating an unique and strong self; a scenario in which their father had guarded his disappointment after catching his sons at the edge of the Bifrost and Loki had been collected back damaged but ultimately mendable; and the one which caused his eyes to burn, a scenario in which Loki had accepted Thor’s plea at the top of Stark tower, allowing himself the time and opportunity to eventually come to peaceful terms with who he was. But this, this broken Loki who refuses forgiveness and is now so full of hatred was a reality Thor was not ready to face but had, and would always be eager to try his best at, starting at once.

The entire staff at the service of the house of Odin had been shortly informed about the return of the younger prince – a title stressed by Odin himself – but both his current condition and expected behaviour were mentioned briefly and in general terms. Loki was to be granted his old freedom back, his chambers, his possessions and his role as part of the royal family, which grated on many – the trickster had never been popular among the people, who considered him a small annoyance rather than an important member of Asgard’s royalty, but after the rumours about the truth behind his short reign and Thor’s recent departure caused an increase in the spite Loki inspired among the masses, Odin’s servants and the royal guard being no exception. Odin did not expect Loki to simply force himself to adapt to the circumstances, in fact dreading what his youngest had in mind to make common living as displeasing as possible for both him and Thor, Frigga remaining collateral damage as the Alfather was certain Loki had not really brought himself to hate the woman who, apart from everything, was his mother and the one who suffered the most with his downfall; but seeing his resources cut off and his surroundings moving the way they had his entire life would, hopefully, mellow Loki’s spite and slowly return him to his loved ones.

Loki knew the Alfather should be concerning himself with much more pressing matters.  


Two hours had passed in silence since Odin had abandoned the room and left a mute god picking at his wounded pride and stretching uncomfortably in his new skin. The empty space around his chambers made Loki weary and had kept him pacing for a couple of minutes before he had finally settled on the bed, rubbing at his face and alternating his look between the shards of mirror on the ground and the fading noon light coming from the window in thin streams. In the short time he had allowed his rational mind to work during his actions in Midgard, Loki had been unsurprised to find the option of defeat pressingly likely, although he had surely underestimated Dr. Banner, and thus lost a key piece in his plan, but altogether, the knowledge that Thor would sooner or later make an appearance and the gained awareness that humanity’s legendary hero complex had tipped dozens of scales in their favour in the past had been more than enough to make Loki consider imminent defeat, at least on a personal level. Loki had never been fooled about his part in the bigger picture – he was the sideman, the master of puppets, the spider, he danced in the sidelines and made the threads dance, touch or move away from each other, but he was exposed, his position frail and his protection merely the one he could provide for himself. The part that had made him laugh bitterly was the notion that for as much as victory had been within his reach, the delicious anticipation of defeat was almost palpable in the back of his mind during the entire course of the last days and, no matter how ridiculously it had actually ended for him, the moment in which Thor had fastened the shackles on his wrists as Tony took the liberty to slap the muzzle unceremoniously on his jaw, had been electrifying. If he had only known the punishment his self-proclaimed father had in mind, he would have thrown himself off that blasted tower if he’d known he’d fall to his death; Loki took Odin for many things, but a sadist was at the bottom of the list and, laced with his foolishness, made a deadly combination – arranging an environment in which Loki’s only exits would be redemption or self-destruction was both cunning and ridiculous, since Loki considered redemption to be the only thing beyond his grasp. Not here, not back in Thor’s shadow, this time not even as the weaker brother of the smart mouth who got away with his tricks because of his royal birth, but as a captive mockery and a constant reminder to himself and to everyone of what had led him so far and how his desire for revenge had only ended in failure and life-long humiliation.  


Fingering his stitches with no real heat, Loki stood up and moved to his bookshelves, observing the volume of Power Dynamics and War Techniques of the Nine Realms, which he picked up with a small smile, the string restraining his lips’ movements. The chapter concerning the Chitauri had gained a completely different meaning since the dozens of years Loki had last skimmed through it, and its pages on Resources and Weapons provided him with an amusing read, considering what was coming. He was interrupted by a quiet knock on the door, which waited for no reply before the door was half opened and Thor stepped inside without a word. Loki ignored him in favour of continuing to gaze upon the pages, now with renewed mirth.  


Briefly taking in the broken mirror on the floor, Thor moved to sit next to Loki and looked at his stitched mouth with a saddened face – the work of the magician was impeccable and the dash of jet black against Loki’s white face was striking to the point of flattering, but the impossible notion of how barbaric this punishment was kept Thor from focusing his eyes on it for too long before he spoke out. “Loki… brother, I would have you listen to me. I know… I know the moment is unfortunate and you are certainly consumed with bitterness and feeding off your hatred for myself and for father” Thor paused as Loki barely flinched but remained intent in the object on his lap, “you shall display no interest in my words and most likely do not wish me to justify myself, as it were your doings which brought us to this moment, and no one else’s’. You are against us but I know you aware of the real mechanics of things, you were always the smarter of the two of us… But know that I am opposed to this, opposed to father’s judgement and to the condition you are forced to live in from now on. No matter how misguided your actions of late have been, this punishment is barbaric and suits no son of Asgard.”  


Loki’s hands tensed around the leather core of the book. _‘I am no son of Asgard and never will I be!’_  


“I have not come to offer you pity, I would never disrespect you like that, I merely wish to offer the truth. For as much as it hurts us all to see you like this, I hope you’ll find it in yourself to put the past behind us. With time, we can start anew… All of us.”  


_‘Never. Nothing is ever going to change. Too late. Too much happened. Never. I’ll never forget--’_  


“Mother hasn’t been the same ever since you fell and seeing you now has made her weary with sorrow for she loves you so. We all do.”  


_‘Fools. Fools the lot of you. You claim to love no more than an illusion. A frost giant wearing the skin of an Aesir!’_  


“I have blamed myself every single day for the past three years – everything, Loki, every moment, every word, every silence in our shared past makes me wonder what I did to wrong you so. We are brothers and yet I never took your pain and your doubts as anything more than common hauntings of a younger mind. I never… I was never there when I should have; your tricks, your lies, I should have been able to see beyond that and I failed miserably by not even bothering to try.”  


_‘You. You. It is always about you! It has always been. Save your words, you fool!’_  


“What you’ve done, Loki… the hundreds of innocents whose deaths are your responsibility… one should never be capable of forgiving it and I shall certainly never forget it. But forgiveness… you act so blindly and with such emptiness that I find forgiving you easier than breathing, brother. I cannot hate you – I never could and I won’t start now, not when all you display is loss and betrayal.”  


_‘Shut up, shut up, Be. Quiet!’_  


“But most of all, I know this is not what you desire. Is it worth it living as a broken man who is sharp and cunning and yet acts beyond reason? Think, Loki, is this what you will spend your eternal age as?”  


_‘You don’t know. You don’t see. Nothing will be as you expect. The war. The chaos. Everything will strike upon you soon and you think yourselves safe. Oh you poor fools. You will pay for your misplaced love. You will pay. I… I just—’_  


“We have endless time before us and I refuse to see you as a prisoner even if you are prevented from the faculty of speech. Your words caused much wrong in the past but they are also what defined my little brother and made him better than anyone I’d ever met; and for this I will forever resent father. I hope… I hope you will eventually face your new life not as a cage but as an opportunity to remind yourself of the life you once had because I know… I know that, for the most part, we were happy.”  


Loki stood up with a jerk, the book falling to the ground with a loud thud, and strode quickly to the door, opening it in front of him as to become blocked from view, his demand evident. Thor sighed and picked up the book, gazing upon the title absent-minded and placing it carefully on top of the bed before standing up and leaving the room without further comment, Loki’s trembling form now partially concealed by the heavy door indication enough of the effect of Thor’s words.


	4. Chapter 4

Odin entered the royal chambers from where the soft weeping sounded distant and nostalgic. “You cannot carry on like this.”

Frigga clasped a hand against her mouth and wiped furiously at her eyes with the other, “Like this? What do you expect when our son is finally returned to us and you have him crippled like a beast?”

“Loki must be punished! His crimes in Midgard are beyond simple forgiveness!”

“And yet a punishment like this is sure to have cost us our youngest! You have driven him away further than ever! Banishing Thor as a way to deliver a lesson in humility was one thing, but you have gone too far!”

The King bowed his head and turned his back on his wife, walking to the border of the pillars framing the room’s open perimeter. “I wish for nothing better than to have our family as one once more, but this was not only necessary as it was merciful. No impartial King would have let Loki roam free for less; his actions would be punished with death in any other realm or by the hand of any other King. By forbidding him the use of magick I have taken fundamental precautions. He will not make this easy on any of us, my wife, but with magick… even in its weakest form and he would cause more pain and more death anywhere he walked. I know of what I speak.”

Frigga dropped graciously on the sumptuous bed, clutching at a piece of cream satin before finally finding her words, “Stripping Loki of his magick is sound judgment but you know I speak of the other part of your decree… why must he be subjected to such a miserable condition? He was always prone to tricks of the will, but—”

“Loki’s magick and his tongue work as one. Where magick fails he uses his wits and toys with the mind of those weak enough to succumb to sly words. This way he shall be granted a chance to adapt without his most dangerous weapon.”

A tense silence filled the chambers; when the Queen finally spoke up, her tone was disturbingly neutral and her eyes kept focus on the bed sheet where her hand was pulling at a small wrinkle in repetitive motions, “I will never agree to this. And neither will Thor, he will resent you.”

Odin’s gaze followed a rush of magick floating the breeze carried from the Bifrost as he answered, “I know”.

“Taking Loki’s magick from him would have been more than enough to—

“You and Thor act like hundreds of years living with Loki haven’t taught you anything! Magick is far from being his most dangerous weapon. His mind is – it always has been – give Loki a chance and he’ll work his way into any mind to aid his cause, you know this as well as I do!”

Frigga was silent for a minute in which the look in her husband’s face surprised her. Not even in the comfort of the royal chambers was Odin prone to let his regal stance down as to transpire any sort of emotional conflict, but the way his eye was wide and the lines of his face tensed in strain at his words gave the Queen a pale idea of how much his decision weighted upon his shoulders. “Even if you are right…” she swallowed, “This has not only succeeded in silencing Loki… every action will be a constant reminder of your act… the simple pleasures of food and drink…”

“Loki was hardly ever one to take pleasure in such activities and he won’t be forbidden to communication. He’s as much a skilled writer as he was a talker.”

The Queen lowered her gaze unto her hands, a fresh wave of despair making her words tremble, “I hope you will never regret this decision.” She stood and made for her private washing room, closing the door behind her.

Odin, who had followed her movements with his eye, finally let out a deep sigh. ‘So do I,’ he thought.

Long moments had past since Thor’s departure from the room, yet Loki’s hands still trembled and his vision still felt clouded by anger. A lifetime of ignoring the worth of words in favour of sheer brute force had apparently also been erased by his brother’s brief banishment. How ironic it felt to Loki – himself, the liesmith, was silent after building his life around silver words and half-truths while his brother, the oafish heir to the throne who prized action above thought, was the one offering gentle words and long calculated reasoning.

_‘Whatever miracle that woman worked on him I shall yet come to know’._

The mortal woman had remained a somewhat remote part of Loki’s agenda while on Earth and he now regretted not paying her a visit; not only did his curiosity at how an insignificant being such as Jane Foster had worked the power to change a God’s ways of a thousand years but also the delicious image of possessing such an apparently worthy pawn in the fight against Thor were notions which both troubled and annoyed the trickster. Thor’s soft words and pleas of redemption only aggravated Loki’s anger against him – of course Thor would think himself the cause for all of Loki’s bitterness; of course it would be his love Loki had been lacking; of course it would be his forgiveness Loki had secretly craved all along.

_‘Infuriating’_

Suddenly, a tense knock on the door was heard and Loki shifted in place to face the entering figure, a frightened little man carrying a golden tray where lay two tall chalices and a large crystal jar from where a familiar honey coloured liquid rested thick and glossy. The man kept his gaze on the tray as he bowed at Loki, his insecure hands making the chalices cling against each other and the crystal of the jar shimmer against the gold. Loki recognised the man after a few seconds, positioning him in the moments before Thor’s coronation a couple of years ago; he remembered turning the content of the goblet he held into a pair of snakes. He would do the same again now if he could, only this time make the little creatures bloodthirsty instead… and perhaps even poisonous.

The servant placed the items on the bedside table, a couple of steps at Loki’s right, setting the chalices down on a thin linen cloth and turning the jar’s handle away from the table centre. When he finally spoke, his body was angled towards the trickster but his eyes were fixed on a point somewhere over Loki’s shoulders, “The Nectar, my prince,” He gulped nervously, “Should thee require any help I am at your service, because… because of thy state I mean, I was told to— Pardon”

Loki ignored him and picked up one of the chalices, slowly admiring the way the crystal reflected the faint remains of natural light coming from the window before breaking the crystal against the bed frame with a sudden jerk of his arm and standing up to press a shard against the servant’s neck. The man’s eyes widened with fear and immediately robust droplets of sweat made its way down his forehead. Loki searched his eyes with coldness, finding only terror and unspoken begging.

 _‘I could kill you, right here and right now.’_ The blade pressed closer to the servant’s skin and a single drop of blood ran the sharp surface of the crystal. _‘They claim to love me so much and they even entrust me with just enough to dispose of petty little lives like yours. What do you think? Do they trust me or does the regal Alfather just care not for his servants? I do not need words to put an end to anyone who so much dares approach me.’_

“Your-your highness, please, I beg you—”

_‘Silence! Silence! Odin thinks magick is all that ran through me? Not even he could be this foolish. I do not require magick to meet a mean to my ends, he made sure of that the day he so kindly took me from Jotunheim and decided to lie about it for centuries.’_

With barely a shift in the crystal’s grip, Loki’s fingers grew cold, impossibly cold, as the blue started to eat through the pale and the crystal shard was replaced by a blade of ice forming directly from Loki’s fist. The servant stared at the bright red of Loki’s eyes and shut his mouth tightly, finding himself unable to blink.

_‘They did not tell you, did they? Ah, the great house of Odin, standing on foundations of lies and blood equally. Certainly the rumours must run the realm but he did not even dignify to make his beloved subjects understand... this is the house you serve, my insignificant little friend.’_

Making the blade disappear together with his jotun form, Loki offered the other man a tight smile, distorted by the strings upon his lips, and a short motion with his head in the general direction of the door. Collecting himself with a jump, the man ran out of the chambers.

Loki sighed and made for the jar of nectar, poring himself a small amount into the now single remaining chalice before picking it up and bringing the brim of the recipient to his nose – the smell of the nectar was enticing and Loki though briefly back at his long fondness for the drink. Made from the richest fruits in Asgard, the nectar had been a favourite of Loki’s since he was allowed his first sip hundreds of years ago; while Thor favoured the flavour and texture of several meats and fermented beverages, Loki had been seduced by the practical aspects of the golden drink which could leave him satisfied with just a couple of delicious drops.

Glancing at the book he had dropped during Thor’s ridiculous speech, Loki walked to the bed once more and sat down, clutching the chalice in one hand and bringing the other to brush against the cover of the book while a mellow sense of joy slowly washed over him. He was not powerless yet, far from it. He could still damage all those around him.

But for what? Odin was so beyond his acts that he could hardly break his hopes any further. And Thor? The idiot appeared to be immune to all of Loki’s mischief, so short-lived was his bitterness. Why strain himself while all he had to do was wait for the work to be done for him? If he was forced to remain alive under constant humiliation he would at least enjoy the show which was soon coming for him and, consequently, all of Asgard. Loki pressed the rim of the chalice against his sewn lips; feeling the way the thick liquid now fought its way past the restrains on his lips until finally reaching his tongue was fairly uncomfortable, but as soon as he felt the sweet tang of the nectar in his mouth he realised it tasted better than simple nourishment.

It tasted of victory.

The first night in the palace after Loki’s return was restless for all those who were aware of his new condition. While Loki himself sat on his bed for hours feeling his own face struggle between grimaces and small smiles, Thor had lain on his unharmed side all night fighting thoughts of impending doom, all seeming to involve Loki’s final words in some way. Odin had the worst time of them all – kept aware by Frigga’s soft weeping, Odin had moved a hand onto her shoulder to express some matter of comfort only to have her move further way from him and cease her sobbing, although her irregular breathing made it clear she was yet to dry her eyes.

As soon as the first beams of light made their way into Thor’s chambers, the prince stood from the bed and clothed himself in his most casual armour and breastplate– Thor had long become unable to feel comfortable in anything less protecting – observing the much improved wound on his torso briefly, he exited his chambers, staring at the extent of the corridor in front of him which eventually led to his brother’s chambers. Having a normal meal with his family did not work in any of the scenarios Thor could conjure at the moment and so he decided to face Loki once again not expecting much success on his second attempt.

Apart from clearly having faced a nighttime similar or worse than his, Loki actually seemed to be in improved spirits. His hair was loose once more and fell down the sides of his face, balancing the black shimmer on his mouth and diverting attention from his deep dark circles. Thor had opened the door with only a polite word of warning and was surprised to be met with a neutral glance from the trickster, who sat at his writing desk, a pile of books to his right and a handful of journal pages at his left. In his hand was a dark writing tool made of greenish wood, sharpened at the edge, with which Loki made the black ink he was using spread across the papers with an elegance teenager Thor had envied him for many years.

Thor hesitated for a few seconds, before finally speaking at Loki’s immobile back, “Good day, brother.” Loki acknowledged his words with a single nod and continued his scribing. “Will you joy us? We… break fast in a couple of moments.” At meeting no response, Thor approached the desk to peer down at Loki’s papers. From among random notes about mythical beasts and historical events of several realms apparently unconnected, Thor did not know what to make of Loki’s notes but mere trivial collecting – a way to kill time, most certainly.

Loki raised his face to look at him with a raised eyebrow before selecting a new paper sheet and writing upon it without hesitation and shifting the document into Thor’s eye sight.

_Common pleasantries do not become you_

Thor’s expression softened and he allowed himself a small smile. “You always accused me of having brutish ways, perhaps this suits us both better?” Loki did not reply immediately but instead dunked his writing tool in the ink with deliberate slowness before writing once more

_Had you not changed and the latest events would have taken a much different turn_

Not knowing how to reply, Thor placed a hand on Loki’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Come down with me, Loki, let us start small. I’m sure we can work together on becoming a family once more, and then… then one day—” ‘One day I will be King and this monstrosity will be removed from you, brother’. Loki showed no curiosity in hearing the remaining of Thor’s sentence, instead adding another line to his part of their brief dialogue

_I shall be down in a moment_

Slowly beginning to rearrange his papers into their original positions, Loki missed the way Thor’s face split open with a sudden smile and he nodded vigorously, “You make us all very happy, brother! I shall await you, then. Do you need any assistance?”

_Thank you, I can manage just fine_

Thor nodded once more and gave Loki’s shoulder a rather painful last squeeze before finally exiting the room in merry spirits to await Loki on the outside of the dining room. As soon as the the door smashing against its frame sounded, Loki slashed a vicious black line of ink through his last sentence and ripped the sheet into pieces, sending them flying towards a small pile of rubbish and discarded documents by the side of the desk.


	5. Chapter 5

Loki did not leave Thor waiting for long. In a matter of minutes, he had joined his brother outside the chambers and they both made for the dinning hall in silence – Thor in better spirits than he had been for months, and Loki just barely succeeding in containing his disgust with his _family’s_ ridiculous attempt at normality.

The King and Queen were already present at the table, their postures wary and their faces deeply tired; Frigga clenched her linen napkin on her hand as the princes entered the hall, and managed to avoid their sight for an insignificant second before giving in and rising red swollen eyes at her sons and offering a weak smile which vanished in a moment’s notice. Loki meant to stare at her with intent to assess her reaction at finally facing him after Odin’s rule, but found himself unable to hold her gaze, letting his own meet the floor with an infuriating sense of sadness.

Odin stood with raised arms and beckoned them to sit beside him. “It gives me great joy to share this small moment with you both.” He faced Loki directly and looked at his spiteful eyes with an expression of serenity which made Loki hate him a tiny bit more. “Loki, please sit beside your brother and me.”

Loki did as he was bid. The sounds of the chairs moving echoed through the hall and made Frigga flinch every few seconds. When a pair of servants made for the table to lay on it a large chalice of golden nectar, the sudden gasp of the younger handmaiden at seeing the returned trickster was only picked up by himself and Frigga, who turned a sharp gaze at the girl before tears crawled their way into her eyes again and she was forced to stare at her untouched food instead.

Over the sound of Thor polishing a plate of smoked meats and cheese, Odin cleared his throat deliberately before speaking. “Later today you shall both be summoned to a public announcement in the crown hall.”

“An announcement?”

“All the peoples of Asgard must be made aware of your safe return.” Odin paused and gave Loki a meaningful glance, “Of both of you.”

 _‘How delightful, a public display of the tamed beast.’_ Loki ignored the goblet in front of him and dragged a smaller bowl of fruit to his side. Thor observed his movements curiously but made no remark as Loki picked up a handful of particularly lovely berries known for their seasonal blooming and their deep, vibrant colour. Distracted, the Alfather nudged his unmoving wife slightly, looking at her plate intently, but met no acknowledgment, before a sudden squishing sound turned all attentions towards Loki, who had squeezed a couple of berries in his fist and was watching in apparent amusement as the thick blue pulp ran down his palm.

_‘Our colour is actually rather fetching, is it not?’_

Thor’s eyes widened in surprise but it was Odin who made sense of Loki’s provocation first, quickly sending a worried look Frigga’s way before raising his voice at his youngest, “It was never in any of our minds to ask of you a docile behaviour, but I know as well that you are no fool to descend into childish provocation, Loki. Please give us all a chance to—”

Showing no sign whatsoever of having the Alfather’s words reach his ears, Loki dragged his clean fingers along the smashed fruit and slowly started drawing dark blue lines along the back of his hand, his eyes alight with mirth and his lips twisted into the closest he could now come to a smile.

With a sharp movement, Frigga stood and left the dinning hall, leaving Thor to gape at his father while Loki simply sighed and raised his hand at the morning beams of light filling the hall, admiring his handiwork with a passive expression and finally meeting Odin’s hurt gaze with challenge clear on his face.

“Father…”

Odin took a deep breath and replied without breaking eye contact with Loki. “I would have you leave us, Thor. I think it is time your brother and I lay this provocation to rest.” Thor turned to Loki and at last recognised the symbolism between his act; his mouth tightened and he left the hall without further words.

A low half-choked chuckling sound escaped Loki and Odin stood up as well, facing his son, who remained seated and now looked at him with feigned boredom while picking up a linen napkin and calmly scrubbing his hands clean.

_‘Unbelievable how much my dear family has weakened in such a short time. Once warriors of might and glory, now tearful maidens mourning the death of a shadow’_

The Alfather let the silence stretch for long moments before breaking it. “The latest events have struck hard upon us all, Loki. But your mother has taken it far worse than even your brother has. Orders won’t change your heart so I plead you… I shall never ask for your forgiveness as I know I am past being worthy of it, but your actions wound us all, your mother most of anyone.”

_‘She is just the same as you. She knew! She knew and yet she lied. You both lied. How fitting for the King and Queen of lies to foster the Liesmith Prince.’_

At the reproach explicit on Loki’s face, Odin dismissed him with a weary nod but caused him to stop on his tracks by speaking loudly a last time. “You will join us for the announcement, Loki. In disregard of what anyone may nurture for you, you are and will remain Asgardian royalty and a vital piece of the Realm and this family.”

Loki sneered and left, discarding the deeply stained blue napkin to the floor as he went.

The heir to the throne of Asgard had not been the only one to change in the past years. All the people of Asgard seemed to have matured together with its prince; so when the sound of Gungnir hitting the floor seemed to echo through the entire realm, every whisper, every anxious expression, every fearful stare softened to make way for the Alfather’s words. Once more the absence of the Queen was noted and the sight of Loki, by the Alfather’s side, together with Thor, heightened on the minds of many and still all saved their protests for later, taking in the state of Loki’s lips and his abnormally relaxed posture which gave him a vibe of scornful contemplation of the world around him.

Odin spoke. The prince Thor had been successful in his venture through Midgard once more, being able to return to Asgard what _was_ of Asgard – its younger prince and the family’s _own_ blood. The younger Odinson had met punishment for crimes committed outside of Asgard’s grasp and the matter seemed to require no further discussion in the King’s mind.

The whispering began once more. From the front line, Sif and the warriors three frowned at seeing their suspicions confirmed. Odin commanded silence once more.

“Let there be clear that any of those who mean or act against the royal house commit treason in the name of the old laws of this realm. _Any_ member of the house.”

Interrupting his scornful appreciation of the effect of Odin’s words, the feeling of Thor tensing next to him made Loki look at him with mild curiosity. The thunderer’s eyes were cast on the sky, where a slightly different charge in the mist covering the sky-matter could be felt by those prone to such arts. Loki allowed himself a small smile. Things were happening ahead of their time but what of it? He had no love for time nor want for more of it. _‘Let it come sooner rather than later. Spare me of this boredom as hastily as you can.’_ He looked back at the people as Thor simply frowned in private confusion and did the same. Loki had to admit, the Alfather’s subjects were sickly respectful – not a single look of disgust thrown his way did the trickster perceive but the palpable feeling of distrust that ran the air was all that was necessary. _‘Soon enough, my friends, have no worry. Soon enough you shall have bigger things to care about than the little maimed runt. And you have your beloved prince to thank for that as well.’_

The unnatural disturbances began on the next day. When a small girl from a village a mere two days ride from the citadel tugged at her mother’s skirt and pressed her palm against the soil claiming in an excited tone, “Feel it, mother, feel it. It is warm!” The first sign of something changing in Asgard was made common knowledge. The unknown charge which ran the skies deepened slightly everyday, forcing Thor to comment on it with his father, who looked across the hall to the window from where the thin purple veins of apparent electricity reflected faintly.

“I must have words with Heimdall soon. There has been several reports now of the earth quivering and oscillating temperatures, this is no natural occurrence. There is magick involved.”

Thor’s thoughts skipped automatically to his brother. Loki had been disposed of his magick, so much is true but he was as close as Thor ever got to understanding the core of what made one deal with the mystical arts. Thor bid his father’s leave and made for Loki’s chambers.

Days had passed in an atrocious blur of provocations, heavy silences and abundant bitterness. Since the fiasco on the first morning after Loki’s return, the illusion of a familiar routine had been shattered at once. Everyday Thor would knock gently on Loki’s door and ask him to join them once more, making a note of behaving; and everyday he met a sneer and on the last time, a flask of ink was thrown his way, the glass smashing against the wall and the crimson ink splattering his armour.

After the public presentation of the returned prince, none of the kingdom’s people would discuss the situation openly and merely spoke words of pity and incomprehension at the royal family for being unable to deal with Loki the way he had proven several times worthy of. The palace’s staff were the only people who would have any level of interaction with Loki, who despite being granted a vast amount of freedom, mostly remained in his chambers, spending countless hours among his books and papers and occasionally glancing at the dark skies, enveloped in something close to impatience. His notes were correct – yet the signs of the coming were developing slowly, it had been five days now and the ground had not yet breached. Loki was severely peeved by the dragging of his well-mannered imprisonment and whatever joy he had drained from terrorising anyone who dared approach him had faded quickly. As predicted, Heimdall had failed to see the cause of it and so was to be expected of something summoned from a core not yet existent. Loki forced himself to be patient.

_‘Half the fun is to wait the wait, after all.’_

As time passed and Asgard’s nature grew more unstable, so did the house of Odin, brought down by the aggravating state of the realm and by the ever present reminder of Loki’s spite, which ultimately poisoned all those who took good intention in dealing with the trickster. From the short-lived joy of having Loki accept to join him and his friends for training, Thor had restrained himself from returning to his brother for two days after Loki had taken great liberty in making small blades of ice fly at Sif and the warriors three. His intent had clearly not been of dealing damage, but he walked a thin line. Thor had come to have words with Loki on a particularly aggressive day – the air was heavy with foreign magick and the earth pulsated with a broken rhythm that made the people fear the very ground they stepped on.

For a change, Loki was standing next to the bed and carefully sipping at his golden nectar. Thor knocked once before entering slowly and resting Mjölnir against the side of the writing desk – the hammer had become an even more constant presence by Thor’s side – pretending not to register the way Loki’s eyes briefly sparked with hatred at the sight of the weapon, Thor scrubbed a hand against his hair and spoke in a distressed tone.

“Surely you have not missed the way the realm’s nature seems to rebel against its normal state, brother.” Loki’s shrugged briefly. “The matter in the air, it deeply confuses me. Its state is the same as lightning but I am unable to control this, its abnormality is far too great… Father claims it to be foreign magick…” That got him what he wanted, a reaction; Loki raised his eyes from the goblet and stared at Thor with intent. “I am aware that it must not be your direct work, but… the coincidence is far too great, Loki. Tell me, what is this?”

Loki’s sewn mouth twisted into a poor resemblance of a grin and Thor felt a knot form in his stomach. For as far as the idea of redemption still seemed to be from Loki’s future, something so threatening so soon was a sharp blow on Thor’s spirit. He seized the trickster by the arm and shook him “What is it, Loki? Are you really so full of hate you have laid new plans of destruction so soon?

 _‘Unhand me!’_ He shook off the restraining hand with effort. _‘Is the Odinson such a fool that he asks the mute to speak? Was I not in this state I would tell you what’s coming. Oh dear brother I would tell you every detail of it. And everyone would wish you had let your human toy soldiers end me as was their desire… But not you. As always you would rather let the innocent burn to save the wicked you claim to love. How are you so—_

“Don’t do this, Loki. Not again.” Thor gestured in the direction of the window. “What joy is there is further bloodshed? What joy do you take from it? You cannot have turned so wicked in such short time. My brother is not—”

Loki smashed the goblet to the floor and took a step closer to Thor, his face red and his eyes full of desperate anger. _‘Do not do this, Loki? DO NOT DO THIS, LOKI? Your idiocy is far greater than your wits as always, Odinson. Be this my doing and you would all be kneeling before me and the Alfather would be in chains for his falseness. This is far greater, don’t you see it DON’T YOU SEE IT! THE SIGNS ARE OUT THERE. I FAILED AND NOW YOU SHALL ALL PAY THE PRICE WITH ME.’_

Loki’s expression confused Thor and made his voice grown uncertain. “Please… Aid me if I am mistaken. This brings merit to no one, especially not yourself. If this is not your work then please help us. I am sure your support would be greatly appreciated and maybe, even cause your punishment to be rethought.”

Loki sat on the bed and cradled his skull in his hands. Thor was bitterly reminded of the moment he stood inside SHIELD’s cage, at Loki’s mercy, and how until the last second he thought it impossible to see his brother press the button that might send him to his death. Seeing him now, Thor did not know what to believe. Instead, he did what felt right; he sat next to Loki and laid a hand on his back, feeling him tense beneath it, but yet Thor remained still.

“There is time.” It felt inappropriate somehow, to murmur such words, but he could not think of anything else to offer now that directly accusing Loki did not seem like such an infallible prospect after all. Loki did not relax, but he did not move away either and to Thor, that was a huge victory.

_‘You poor fool... There is barely any time left. For any of us.’_

Ever since the first time she was forced to gaze upon him in the morning after his return, Frigga had not crossed paths with Loki again. She would have her meals in her chambers and decline every summoning for official appearances despite Odin’s insistence and Thor’s infinite worrying. She would have her maids inform her of the words running the kingdom and for as much as the women begged her to ignore such reports, she would force them to keep nothing from their speeches. The numerous incidents involving friends and servants of the family, the reclusion to which Loki condemned himself, punctuated by frequent acts of taunting and even the rumours linking Loki to the latest corruption of Asgard’s nature; everything reached Frigga’s ears and every words made her head bow lower and her eyes grow heavier.

Odin remained deaf to her complaints which grew thinner and thinner; Thor would hold her tightly and whisper comfort words into her hair – words which rang as desperate as Frigga herself felt – motivating her to go to Loki herself.

“He will not attempt to harm you, mother. He loves you still, of that I am sure,” Thor had told her.

Frigga grimaced at her reflexion on her bedside table mirror; her eyes were puffy and red with lack of rest and abundant weeping and her usually perfect hair hung loose and lustreless. Had the people of Asgard depended upon the strength of their King and Queen in the last weeks and they would have found their support frail. Frigga sniffed and pulled her hair back, standing up and taking a deep breath. It would do no good to avoid Loki and if Thor’s words were correct, then she could be the only one capable of making him see the least amount of sense.

The corridors were deserted.

Odin had warned her never to be in the same room as Loki without guarding, to which Frigga responded by staring at him in horror. The image of Loki ever coming close to hurting her was… unthinkable.

Frigga rested a hand against the door for a moment before knocking lightly twice. The door opened and the look of surprise on Loki’s eyes lasted only a second before his face hardened and he left the door ajar and turned back to his desk where he was once more occupying his time with apparent random research.

“I had to see you.” Her son made no intention of replying in any way and so Frigga closed the door behind her and moved closer to the desk. “I… cannot tell you once more how much the recent events grieve me, Loki. Your father… Your father hopes for eventual normality but I do not see how abandoning you to your own devices after… such a cruel punishment can accomplish that.”

_‘For once you are correct.’_

Frigga’s voice caught in her throat briefly as she took another step forward and was now facing Loki’s side, whose gaze remained fixed on the books with little interest. She made to extend a trembling hand to his face but was cut off when he turned to deliver a leer – such a foreign expression on the face of her youngest; jealousy, rivalry, annoyance… yes, but never this form of raw grudging.

“I have wronged you. The same as your father has, but please, Loki, do not cast us away. Did our love ever mean anything to you? Was it so weak that you were able to replace it with betrayal in a moment’s notice? Please look at me!” His face turned once more but his expression remained blank and it dealt a vicious blow on Frigga’s courage. “I mean to help you in any way I can, my son. And so does your brother for he hurts as much as I. What was done to you was atrocious and I would see it revoked as soon as possible; this is not the way.” Finally confident that he would not pull away, she placed a hand on his cheek and knelt beside him. “But for that I need you to forgive us. Have everything else destroyed, but never doubt that your family _loves you_.” The sneer her last words pulled from Loki made Frigga grab both sides of his face to prevent him from turning away again. Her voice was now completely broken and the tears ran freely; somewhere in the back of her mind Frigga cursed herself for breaking once more when she had planned to be strong.

“No one, not even my King can ask of me the impassivity to watch my family burn and my son dwell in bitterness. Please, Loki! See that I only mean what is best for us all; you and Thor are the same to me and I would rather face a thousand years of the Alfather’s rage than to see you like this for a second more.” Frigga waited for a reply; something, anything – a sign of acknowledgment, anything at all.

Loki jerked his neck to detach Frigga’s hands and reached across for his wooden pen, making the ink dance briefly upon the paper to form a single word

_Leave_

With a short gasp, the Queen stood abruptly before turning on her heels and leaving the chambers with haste. Loki watched her leave; his hand destroying the paper on the desk inside a clenched fist before coming up to his eyes to eliminate any trace of useless sentiment betraying him.

_Tales have it that since the dark times of the war between the nine realms, the Great Odin Alfather, King of Asgard and ruler of the realm, had lost faith in his own messengers and men of arms to carry the words that might either end or aggravate the brutal war - treaties were jeopardized, vital messages had been lost, blood had been spilled. Until one day, after he had banished his last remaining informer, the Alfather looked upon his Council and declared an end to all conventional ways and sources of long-distance communication and information; at the shock expressed by his subjects, Odin had left the great hall into the palace gardens where he looked upon the flora and the fauna surrounding him, lost in thought._

_Suddenly, a sharp croak snatched his attention back to the present and the Alfather watched in silence as a pair of ravens flew sharply past him, only to return immediately afterwards and rest upon an engorged tree branch some two feet above the King’s head. The plumage of the beasts was striking to the eye in its shades of glossy black and dark gray, their eyes were wide and shiny as full moons and their croaking was deep and sounded for kilometres of distance._

_Odin looked at the ravens, a small peaceful smile gracing his face for the first time in years, as he extended his arm in a clear invitation and the ravens blinked at him slowly before coming to rest on the King’s arm without further noise. The Alfather spoke. Not normal words used for the making of peace or war, but ancient words filled with intent and magick:_

_“Majestic creatures, I come to thee to serve me as long as I might require thy services. Thou shall be mine eyes and mine ears, roaming free across the realms so to bring not false judgment and risk not further unnecessary horrors.”_

_At the King’s words, the creatures’ very foundations were blurred, reshaping into a core of pure magick. On that moment, Huginn and Muninn were born._

_The ravens had been the sight and the hearing of the Alfather ever since. Immune to all forms of falseness and corruption, Huginn and Muninn were also strong and fast, overcoming the frequent attempts on their existences with fair ease. The peoples of the nine realms spoke of these creatures with fear and awe. Thought and Memory, they called them, as they were known to bewitch the minds of those who came too close and even erase strings of thoughts from the ones they collected their messages from. It was said that they possessed such magick that one of their black feathers was enough to erase a madman’s daemons away with a single touch._

Frigga slipped unnoticed back into her chambers, her throat felt raw and her eyes burned beneath her constant scrubbing. She walked to the balcony and took in the sight before her – the sky was heavy with dark sparks which covered the air like an enormous spider web and the very frames of the tall buildings still standing in the city would quiver at random moments.

There was nothing else to hope for. Nothing would fix anything such as it was. Frigga did not trust time nor forgiveness; and even love seemed pitiful and powerless against the situation. There was only one thing left to do.

Act now before it was too late.

The weaponry hall was now a heavily guarded wing of the palace, and luckily so, the messenger’s room had been disregarded with the coming of the truce between the realms. Frigga ignored the few servants she met on her way to the messenger’s scriptorium and breathed in relief after the heavy wooden door closed behind her.

The faint rustling of feathers coming from the further side of the darkened room was all the evidence she needed. As she approached the open brass cages near the window, Frigga could not help but think that were peace a final notion or even stable and the creature would have been disposed of by now and her actions would be rendered useless. But thankfully not only did the ravens appear as strong as ever but the magick of Odin’s rule was passed not merely by blood but by bond. All those considered his kin enjoyed the control of the crafts at the Alfather’s disposition.

_‘I have no choice, this is the only way. Everything will improve afterwards. Just—’_

At the simple note of intent dancing in Frigga’s mind, the ravens came closer and offered the Queen their thin necks for the reaping, unto which Frigga cut through with a small steel blade she had been carrying ever since the phantoms of war had fallen upon Asgard once more. First Huginn and then Muninn, their blood ran black and thick into a glass vial Frigga held to the beasts’ wounds, mixing almost instantaneously in a cloud of dark magick.

It was done.

All which remained now was to put an end to all the misery which drained her family and poisoned her beloved children.


	6. Chapter 6

Night was at its darkest when, feeling utterly furious at his stagnated research and the slow moving of events, Loki pushed the tight volume he was studying to the side with a brusque movement and walked to the window, extending a hand to the outside air and observing the way the now thick sparks of magick bent and turned around him fingers.

 _‘Shouldn’t be much longer now…It should break through the grounds soon. I am surprised Thor has not put himself to the useless task of researching this in person.’_ He touched his lips and grimaced at the pull of the string. _‘This would not have made a difference in the end, but it would have been way more amusing to—’_

The knock on the door surprised him. His last meal should have been delivered hours earlier but he had not bothered to leave his chambers to fetch it himself for aversion to running into Thor after what had happened, or even worse, Frigga herself. He opened the door with an annoyed frown which disappeared immediately at the sight of Frigga standing outside the door with the familiar gold jar and a chalice – her face composed but her eyes still glossy. Loki had not expected to see her again so soon, and especially not in such terms. _‘Apparently you grown not tired of grovelling.’_ He moved aside and let her place the objects on the table slowly.

“I would apologise for the lateness of the hour, but I see you still disregard sleep in favour of your books.” Frigga smiled a blank smile and turned to look at Loki who remained by the door, holding unto the knob and weighting his options. When he finally jarred the door and approached the table, Frigga beat him to the jar and motioned him back to the desk. “But I do need to apologise for what happened earlier… My bothers are not meant to bore you, I’m sorry.”

Loki looked at her with a mix of surprise and calculated mockery. _‘Apologising for what they feel… you really are all no better than a weakling weeping for its dead dog.’_ He shrugged slightly and sat at the desk anyway, bringing the previously discarded volume closer again.

Frigga pored the nectar into the chalice and held it for a moment before walking to Loki and running a shaking hand softly through his cheek before handing him the chalice.

Squirming slightly at the unexpected touch, Loki forced himself to ignore her completely, instead focusing back on his papers as he accepted the chalice and brought it to his lips.

Frigga clenched her fists and bit unto her lower lip.

Loki tensed as the liquid in his mouth expelled a faint tang of blood and something else he associated with some distant knowledge of magick made tangible. He inhaled deeply and was about to cough out as much of the substance as he could when one of Frigga’s hand clasped his mouth and nose and Loki felt her arm envelop his chest in a surprisingly tight hold. As he jerked in surprise, his reflexes making him gulp quickly and swallowing a portion of the spiked nectar, Loki had only time to claw at Frigga’s shoulder with little strength before his senses started to dull and his throat relaxed automatically, the rest of the mixture flowing effortlessly down it.

_‘Blood. Magi—magick blo—the ravens. No, she—you—no!’_

Frigga hugged Loki tightly as he finally went limp in her arms.

The handmaiden would find Frigga in the exact same position at the break of morning; her face raw from crying and her son’s still form between her hold, his mouth smeared with nectar made darker from the blood of the Alfather’s beloved ravens.

The woman had been easy enough to discard. Frigga had intercepted her on the corridor on the way to Loki’s chambers about three hours earlier and insisted on delivering his meal herself. The young woman had smiled nervously and bowed, handing the Queen both the jar and the chalice and retreating with thoughts on misplaced care and the burden of motherly love. 

Now, as she rushed to the immobile figures, the maiden raised her voice as she shook the Queen, whose wrists remained rigid as stone. “My Queen what happened? Should I—I will call for help!” Frigga ignored her in favour of sobbing out something which sounded remotely like “For the best; for the best”. The handmaiden left the chambers, running to the great hall where the Alfather already sat with Thor and several representative members of the Asgardian peoples which had come to him with new data on the chaos the entire realm was suffering.

“My King,” The woman entered the room panting and brought a hand to her chest, “The Queen. Something has happened, Prince Loki is unwell.”

Thor stood in alarm but Odin ceased his forearm in a firm grip before standing as well. “Where are they?”

“Loki’s chambers, my King.”

Feeling Odin’s hand on his arm relaxing the slightest fraction, Thor left the hall running, followed by his father, who walked with hasty steps, and half a dozen guards on his wheels.

The door to Loki’s room was still ajar and the Queen’s hiccups could be heard from the outside. Thor kneeled by her with urgency. “Mother. What--?” His hands came to Loki’s slack shoulders to release him from Frigga’s forceful embrace, leaving her to bury her head on her arms where they now rested upon Loki’s lap. Thor shook his brother, meeting no response and yelling at his mother’s back. “What happened?! Who harmed him?”

Frigga simply resumed her attempts to even her own breathing and press Loki closer to her chest. Odin frowned in worry and approached the desk while Thor began to scream commands at the guards; he touched Loki’s jaw lightly and let out the smallest sigh of relief. “He still lives, I can sense it. Take him to the healing wing; I shall be there at on—”

His words were interrupted by the heavy footing of another royal guard breaking into the chambers, his face red and his breath uneven. “My King _puff puff_ my apologies, I--”

“What is this? We asked for privacy.”

The guard bowed his head and tried to speak once more, “Apologies, my King, but word has just come to us _puff puff_ from the royal armoury. There has been an intrusion, my King. _Puff puff_ thy ravens, Huginn and Muninn, they lay slain.”

Silence feel upon the chambers, punctuated by Frigga’s soft panting.

Odin laid a hand on Thor’s shoulder in a clear sign of command. “Take your brother. Do as I have said and stay by him, he may come to at any moment.”

“But what—”

“Now,” Odin cut him off, “The rest of you leave us.” He glanced over the remaining guards, making it clear that Frigga was to stay behind. Thor’s brow furrowed briefly in defiance but his worry ultimately won over him as he nudged Frigga back as gently as he could and took Loki by the waist, moving one of his arms over his own shoulders and passing an arm under his legs to raise him and carry him out of the room, the guards following close.

Frigga was finally standing but her head remained bowed and her eyes wavered little above the floor. The King allowed the silence to drag on once more before speaking.

“Why?”

“You know why,” Frigga said, raising her gaze to meet her husband’s which burned with betrayal. “For our family.”

“This is not the way! Do you realise what you have done?!” His restrain broke and Odin was now openly yelling. “Not only have you mustered with the darkest of magick but you have destroyed any chance Loki might have had at—”

“No!” Odin’s mouth snapped close as Frigga took a step forward, her expression furious. “I did what _had to be done_ after you dealt your brutal justice on our son! Time would not fix things but aggravate them. Look around you! Do you see how these past weeks have weighted on us all? The realm is at the brink of unknown chaos and you cannot even heal the maladies under your own roof!”

“What you have done was unfair to all of us but especially to Loki, he would never forgive you.”

“I did what had to be done,” Frigga repeated, bringing the palm of her hand to rest against her mouth in an attempt to soothe the increasingly desperate tone of her words. “Now we can start anew, now we can—”

“You have taken the choice of redemption away from him! Don’t you see what you have done?!” Frigga jumped at the Alfather’s new scream. “What valour lies in bewitchment? I understand it might have seemed like the only way but this is not what our family needed and most certainly not what it deserved.” When Frigga failed to reply, Odin sighed deeply and after a moment approached her and lightly took hold of her chin to raise her face so their eyes met and, after a beat, his voice came softer but pained with worry. “We might yet have to pay greatly for this. All of us, I want you to understand that.”

Frigga pressed her lips together and nodded, accepting Odin’s embrace and whispering, “We can make it all alright from here, I know it.”

He did not reply, merely holding her more tightly.

Thor had come through the healing ward kicking the door open and yelling for immediate assistance which came at once in the form of a numerous team of weary healers and their assistants who directed the prince to the nearest bed, unto which he deposited Loki’s slump body as carefully as he could manage.

“What has happened?” Asked one of the elderly healers, checking Loki for a pulse while staring pointedly at the mixture still staining his lips.

Thor tightened his hand on Loki’s arm and looked at his sewn mouth in despair. “I do not know, my father has instructed me to stay by Loki’s side until he is to awake.” Suddenly, the grounds quivered violently, causing a dozen of startled yelps to sound through the room. Thor looked around and simply held the bed frame through the quaking, preventing it from rocking too hard and said nothing as the servants and patients started a new debate on whatever was causing Asgard’s Nature to crumble.

When the healer put his hands away from Loki’s brow, he met Thor’s inquisitive eyes and shook his head. “I cannot be sure, my liege. I can find no regular vital signs but then again I have no experience in treating—”

“Take care how you speak, my friend.” Thor cut him off, his tone threatening, “The Alfather has made that point quite clear.”

“I… I’m terribly sorry, I did not mean to cause offence. _Errr_ , as I said, I can pick up nothing abnormal but did thee not mention the Alfather had already passed judgment on thy brother’s condition?”

“Yes, he said Loki was to come to at any moment. I hope he knows of what he speaks.”

The healer smiled nervously and bowed, “The Alfather’s wisdom is much vaster than mine own.” His mouth gave a small twitch. “We should not worry and merely wait.” And he was gone from the ward.

Thor frowned and moved closer to Loki, laying a hand on his forehead, which remained cold to the touch. It had been over two years since he had had the chance to sense the temperature of Loki’s skin by touching him in something other than an aggressive move but it seemed to him that his brother’s skin had become infinitely cooler after his time on Midgard.

Minutes dragged by slowly and Thor’s patience was already at its limit. None of the healing staff seemed to be paying any attention to Loki’s condition and although Thor mostly trusted his father’s judgment it seemed like this was just another cruelty to figure in the long list of treatments Loki had received in Asgard. Finally, Thor had grown sick of the dark nectar stains which matted his brother’s lips and asked a passing servant for a wet cloth with which he himself set to the bitter task of cleaning Loki’s face; the fact that the colour of the dry nectar was fairly darker than Loki’s usual favoured drink only registered vaguely on Thor’s mind as he mostly looked upon his brother’s unchanging state with sad eyes.

Suddenly, Loki’s upper lip twitched almost unnoticeably but it was enough to make Thor jerk in surprise and call loudly for assistance as he once more took hold of Loki’s shoulders and shook him.

“Loki? Please open your eyes.” Steadying his hands he could see Loki try a pained grimace but ultimately failing against the pressure of the string on his lips.

When Thor pressed a hand against his cheek, Loki finally opened his eyes with a snap and seemed to look around in absolute bewilderment before staring at Thor with wide eyes and an expression of shocked surprised; and beginning to squirm violently in his arms. Thor released him in surprise and watched as Loki’s hands flew to his mouth in panic and he started to claw at the stitches and look at everyone around him with terror plain in his eyes.

While all the healers around stared at Loki with fear and apprehension, Thor grabbed hold of his arms once more and tried to make sense of his reaction. “Loki! You are alright, you are alright now, calm yourself, you will make the stitches bleed!” Loki simply looked at him again in horror and struggled against his grip, thin streams of blood already visible on his lips from the strain he had just put them through.

After dealing a particularly lucky kick at Thor’s knee, which caused him to loosen his embrace for a second, Loki squirmed free of his arms and brought his hands to his mouth again, his eyes widening at the sight of the blood in his palms. He looked back at his brother and Thor now saw the tears running freely down his face.

“Something is wrong! Bring me a knife, anything sharp.” Thor yelled at the servants, who merely bounced nervously in their places and did not move until Thor screamed once more, this time making the very room quiver. “NOW!”

The healers dispersed in search of any sharp object which might serve the Prince’s purposes when a small group of people was heard approaching the ward. When a young male healer passed Thor a small medical blade with shaky hands, Thor only had time to accept it with one hand while holding Loki’s terrorised form between his other arm, before Odin, Frigga and a couple of royal guards came into the room. Frigga’s eyes widened with a mix of fear and relief while Odin’s expression tensed but Thor ignored them both in favour of pressing the blade against the string on Loki’s lips and holding him closer to prevent him from fighting harder and hurting them both with the small sharp object.

“Thor.”

“I must do it, father, something is not right with him,” Thor yelled back, his fist clenching around the handle of the blade. Loki seemed to finally realise what he was about to do and some of the fight appeared to drain from him as the blade made its way into the corner of his mouth to destroy the first stitch.

Unable to ignore his surprise at Odin’s silence, Thor looked back at the Alfather, his eyes pleading but determined. Regardless of the King’s reply he would do it, he would undo this error and see to his brother.

Odin nodded gravely.

Quickly turning back to Loki, Thor made the blade strain against the enchanted string, the material snapping with little effort under the handling of Asgard’s royal blood. One by one the stitches popped undone and the string faced to nothing, leaving only a liquid caress against Loki’s bloody chin before sliding gracefully to the floor and disappearing entirely. The puncture wounds laced themselves in a matter of seconds, leaving only pink flesh still stained with drying blood.

Finally free of his restrains, Loki wheezed violently and pushed Thor away, walking backwards to press his back to the wall and hold a hand to his running chest and an arm in front of him. After much gulping and some attempts to swallow around his throat, made dry by weeks without work, Loki spoke in a shaky tone, looking to everyone around him like a wounded animal surrounded by predators. “What— This— What was this? Who did this to me?”

Thor frowned in confusion while, behind his back, Odin cast his gaze to the floor. Thor took a step forward and offered his hand to Loki, “You were unwell, something happened. Mother found you but you are well now… Loki?”

Loki scrubbed a hand against his mouth nervously but maintained a defensive position. “My lips. Why did it-- What happened to me?” He took in the confused and scared expressions around him, finally setting on his family. “How did this happen?”

Thor looked at a lost and that shook Loki’s confidence and made him all the more confused. “Loki, I don’t understand—”

“What is this?!” He managed to finally scream, his voice raspy and weakened but still powerful. “I wake up _kof kof_ in restrain and none of you _kof_ helped and merely told me to stay calm. What is this?!”

“But, what—”

“Enough, Thor,” Odin interrupted. “Loki, you must calm yourself, everything will be explained at once, but for now you must calm down, please.” His words seemed to have the desired effect as Loki gave in to either his exhaustion or the attempted reassurance from his father and dropped his arm and began to massage his aching jaw and probe at the now mere ghosts of his past wounds.

“I feel… exhausted. What happened?”

Thor approached him, offering his arm for support, which Loki took after an involuntary groan caused his legs to give out slightly, to the general surprise of the room. “You mean… you do not know who harmed you?”

Loki managed to look irritated. “I just told you _kof_ I don’t know who did this _kof kof_ but they will pay.”

“We know nothing. Mother found you and we know nothing else. Whoever left you unconscious will be found, I promise you. ” Thor said.

“Thor…” Odin interrupted, laying a hand lightly on Frigga’s forearm to keep her from stepping forward.

Loki caught the movement and his abused face hardened in an angry frown as he looked back at Thor. “I could not care less for being unconscious _kof_ are you an idiot? I am obviously referring to what they did to my mouth.”


	7. Chapter 7

Time seemed to slow down as the people in the room acknowledged the words that came out of Loki’s mouth. Odin merely squeezed Frigga’s hand more tightly while Loki looked in angered confusion at the small irresponsive crowd.

“So? Why are you all standing there?” Loki said, eyeing the guards with contempt. “Shouldn’t all the palace’s men be looking for the responsible for such a foul attack?”

The guards surrounding the Alfather tensed and looked at the King, awaiting orders; as he turned around and gave a short nod, the guards ran out of the healing ward while the servants in the room looked at the King as if eagerly awaiting similar dismiss and not be forced to tend to whatever madness seemed to be plaguing the crown’s black thorn. For all they cared, Loki was merely playing the fool in order to gain from it – getting rid of the stitches might very well have just been the beginning, and it had been _terrifyingly_ easy for him to trick his family into going against their own decision.

One thing they could all agree on. Loki was a _fantastic_ actor.

“Loki, you are not making sense. Do you feel unwell?” Thor moved closer and looked into Loki’s annoyed expression with deep confusion.

“I seem to be physically well, yes, but this is beyond outraging, and you seem to be acting like idiots. I—”

“Loki.” Odin’s voice echoed, “We are glad to find you unhurt. I am sure we can have more private words now.”

Jolting back to awareness, the healing staff left the room as silently as possible and closed the door behind them. Loki rubbed at his jaw once more and held his mother’s gaze, frowning.

“Mother, don’t look so upset. I am unharmed now.”

Thor’s mouth opened for a new remark but he was cut off by Frigga, who detached her hand from Odin’s and ran to Loki’s side, holding his face with a barely contained delighted smile and ran a hand through his hair, sighing. “I’m glad. I’m so glad...”

Loki frowned once more but ultimately placed one of his hands on top of hers and let out a small smile of his own. “I am outraged, nothing more. It will pass. As soon as those responsible for this treason are punished.”

Watching the scene unfold before him made Thor snap his mouth shut and heavily rub a hand on his eyes before standing and approaching Odin. “What has become of him, Father? What is the meaning of this?” The pain in Odin’s eye scared him more than he would ever admit.

“Your brother has fallen prey to a memory charm. A very powerful one, for that matter. I am appalled he has not forgotten who he is entirely; we should consider ourselves very lucky.”

By the bed, Frigga was now holding a surprised but mellowed Loki. Thor struggled to keep his tone as low as possible. “I saw it in his eyes - Loki was not lying, I know it! Who did this to him? How did such a vile act occur between these walls?” When Odin failed to reply, Thor gave a sharp exclamation, causing Loki and Frigga to look up. “But of course! The nectar! I briefly thought it strange that its colour was darker and Loki’s mouth was still stained with it. We must have the serving maidens questioned at once!”

Odin placed a hand on his shoulder, “My son, we will have words in private, I am sure your brother needs rest and your mother…” His eye slowly moved to Frigga who looked vaguely defiant and tightened her fingers around Loki’s hand, “must surely want to stay with him for a moment. Come.”

Certain of his father’s intention to plan the search for Loki’s attacker, Thor offered his brother a pained smile and followed Odin out of the room and into the royal scriptorium.

“What will be our course of action, father?”

“Thor, please sit down, I must tell you something important.”

“We have not the time! The traitor might still be in the citadel, we must make haste!”

“There is no traitor.”

Thor froze. “What does that mean ‘no traitor’? Surely someone has poisoned Loki.”

Odin slowly moved behind his sumptuous writing desk and paused for a moment before trailing a hand on the back of his chair. “I fear that is correct. But what drove the culprit is far more dangerous than hatred.”

“I do not understand.”

“Love.” Odin muttered “It was your mother who gave Loki the enchanted drink.”

“Mother? But… but why?

“Despair… Hope that he would simply forget all that’s past and we could move on like nothing ever happened… Who knows? I imagine things must have looked so desperate to her to motivate such injustice.”

Thor allowed himself a moment of silence as everything pieced together in his mind. “I… certainly the situation was bitter on us all, but this, this is madness, Loki would never consent to this were he aware!”

“Your mother acted behind our backs and I have had words with her, she remains adamant as to her motivations, we have never seen eye to eye on the matter of my judgment.” He raised his gaze to his son, whose response came to no surprise.

“Nor have I. But toying with Loki’s memory like this is aberrant; we must find a way to undo this.”

“We must consider ourselves very lucky your brother does not seem to have lost much… the blood of the ravens might have proven powerful enough to efface his entire conscience… But to restore his memory now is, I fear, beyond my powers. To distort magical or physical matter is one thing but to meddle with a man’s memories is dark territory.”

“That is all?” Thor held up his arms in disbelief, “The matter is stored away with not so much as an attempt? Should we just pretend the past two years did not happen? I refuse to do that.”

“Your mother seems to hope so, and I must say that now that the choice is put before us it seems painfully simple to do precisely that. A chance to erase what was wronged and go forward.”

“Father--!”

“I know, Thor, I know. Only a fool would expect things to work this way. This was a mistake and it must be remedied as soon as possible but we must take caution – simply informing Loki of what has happened is sure to provoke him to disbelief or renewed madness.”

“So your rule on Loki’s crimes…?”

“The purpose of the bonding is no longer but this does not change my decision as to Loki’s magick”, Odin sighed, “A criminal remains as such even if he is unaware of his deeds.”

Thor bowed his head “A just decision. I shall go to Loki at once; it is unwise to leave him to his own mind at the moment.” At his father’s nod, Thor left the scriptorium and made his way back to the healing ward, ignoring all those who tried to intercept him on his way – the news had travelled fast and the trickster’s “new memory act” was already talked about in every corner of the palace.

Loki’s room was still empty but for Frigga and Loki himself who was alternating between comforting his mother and confused annoyance at the entire situation. When the door swung open, Loki looked at Thor’s too-neutral expression with a frown, “Well? As the criminal been found?”

Thor had only time to catch his mother’s small pleading look before Loki was inquiring him again in a louder manner. In a split second, he let out the first thing to come to his head, “I’m afraid searches have proven unsuccessful so far.”

Frigga seemed to mask her surprise by wiping briefly at her eyes but Loki was unimpressed, “Should you not be searching as well? You don’t seem too disquieted yourself, to have a son of Odin attacked in the very palace is simply—”

“Worry not, brother, the culprit shall be taken care of in good time, I promise you. You should rest.”

“I have rested quite enough, I think,” Loki replied impatiently, nudging his mother into standing and pulling himself into an upright position in his bed. “I shall do my own research and set this matter aside at once.”

Thor and Frigga exchanged a panicked look and Frigga placed a hand on Loki’s wrist, stopping him from rising. “You have just suffered… an attack, Loki, your brother is in the right - you’d do well to rest.”

Loki jerked his arm impatiently and swung his legs off the side of the bed “I appreciate all this concern but I feel mostly fine. Plus I should expect no results if I am to trust father’s search parties; my knowledge in magick will prove much more fruitful.”

“But—”

“I agree, mother” Thor interrupted, “If there was magick involved, who better to clarify this than Loki himself?” His eyes flashed with reproach and Frigga consented nervously to let go of Loki's arm.

Loki gave Thor a thankful short nod and turned to leave the room, swaying ever so slightly but refusing to meet Frigga's worried gaze once more. Thor spared his mother one last unhappy look and followed his brother out, dreading the uncomfortable silence but not knowing what to say without betraying his thoughts.

"Are you truly well?"

Loki glanced at him over his shoulder "As I said I am unharmed now, but this entire situation has been most unpleasant and incomprehensible. I will have to make sure the culprit regrets this until his final days."

They walked the remaining distance to Loki's chambers in silence. To Thor's surprise, the place was guarded by two members of Odin's personal guard. Loki looked at them in what appeared to be approval before turning to his brother, "Extra vigilance should be unnecessary, I will be more aware from now on." He paused, "Thank you for ridding me of those... bonds, whatever they might have been, I shall start my research at once." When Thor failed to move, he frowned. "No need to treat me like a child, Thor, I am perfectly safe now."

Unable to come up with a better excuse not to part with his brother, Thor uttered the first thing to come to his mind, "I thought you might want to join me for a walk in the gardens. Surely an hour won't kill your research and might do you some good to breathe the fresh air." Loki sighed. "You cannot blame us for being concerned. I merely wish to make sure you are fully recovered."

"Very well, if it will get you all to stop lecturing me, so be it."

Entering his room to be rid of his spoiled garments, Loki noticed how the space was impeccable, it hardly seemed lived on... except for his large framed mirror which was nowhere to be seen. He searched the closet for clothes and there too everything was kept pristine and impersonal. The whole area gave off an empty feeling that had Loki pause for a couple of seconds before making a mental note to inquire about the last servant to clean his chambers and whatever had happened to the mirror. Approaching his desk, Loki looked down on the neatly arranged pile of History books on top of a number of notes and random papers; he moved the books aside and reached for the first page.

_Links and Bonds of the Nine Realms_

_Transpositions between worlds have been a myth for millennia as far as the lower realms are concerned, Asgard of the Aesir being the only kingdom in possession of a link through which travel is----_

Loki's eyes roamed lower

_\---the use of dark magick to access other realms and dimensions is a topic of relentless study. It is commonly accepted that only beings of ethereal core are capable of forcefully breaching the wall between worlds but such has not been documented for over eight-hundred aesir ages._

The topic was not completely alien to Loki, but the presence of such notes in his study, made by his own hand were an event hard to place.

Outside, a loud noise of impatience was heard. Loki rolled his eyes - His questions would have to wait.

Scarce minutes later, Loki stood outside his chambers to meet a ridiculous anxious Thor. "What is it with you? I said I'm fine, this is becoming ludicrous."

"Ignore my worry if you so prefer but allow me the right to it." Came the solemn response.

Shrugging lightly, Loki followed his brother into the Palace's gardens - a vast outdoors space fashioned into a maze of all kinds of botanic species which grew little above its visitors' waistline. The once vivid and striking vegetation was now greyish and blurred, along with the slowly collapsing skies. Thor led Loki through one of the many possible paths and walked side-by-side to him. This was the first time Loki was led to see the natural chaos under which Asgard was decaying and so far he had refrained from commenting on it, much to Thor's surprise.

"I do not recall a phenomenon such as this in my lifetime. What is known of this so far?" He finally asked.

"Not much. Father has the whole court researching these effects while I myself have tried to make sense of this... strange lightning that weights the air but with little to no result."

"Tell me," said Loki, voice suddenly smooth, "For how long was I unconscious?"

"I-- I would say not long."

"I should have known better than to expect a useful reply."

"Why do you ask?"

Loki slowed the pace as they approached one of the many long stone benches in the area. "Apart from the obvious fact that Asgard was in a healthy state last I remember it, which I assume did not happen overnight, my chambers seem most strange." He sat down and Thor mimicked him. "The mirror in front of the bed is missing and the whole room appears far too devoid of any presence. One would say it hasn't been inhabited in months."

Thor swallowed dryly. The past months had seen Loki put little to no use to anything in his chambers besides the bed itself and those History books he suddenly had seemed so keen on. By the King's orders the chambers were searched and cleaned into a state of almost sterile default order. "I'm sure it was but a matter of search for evidence. Then some serving girl must have cleaned your chambers."

Loki did not seem convinced. "And the mirror?"

"Broken in the guards’ rush." He took a small private moment to feel proud of his quick reply. Loki's sigh was indication that he was willing to let the matter slide for now.

Silence fell between them once more. Thor was beginning to allow a sense of ease to crawl into him until Loki perked up suddenly. "It surprises me to see you so intent in my well being, brother." He said with the barest grin.

Loki's expression and too familiar mocking tone made Thor uncomfortable and, for a fragment of a second, fearful. "I don't understand."

Loki grinned harder and gestured at the darkening sky above them, "With your coronation coming in such few number of weeks I was certain your mind would be put to more important matters." When no reply came, Loki turned to look at Thor with a frown, meeting a distant gaze which on any other would have transpired... sadness. But Thor, the soon to be mighty King of Asgard had not been one to show sadness in decades. Loki was shaken "What is the matter?"

"The coronation holds no value to me as it is." By his side, Loki's eyes widened. "It is not a matter I wish to discuss."

"B-but, how so?" Loki hated himself for stammering, "Have you not spoken of nothing else in the past years? What made your mind change so?" This was impossible. It made no sense, all his plans, all his study and preparation for the great day, surely nothing would have changed his arrogant brother's mind.

Thor finally turned to face him and his expression was unreadable once again. This close and with no distractions Loki took on a number of things - Thor's hair was longer, his eyes seemed less bright and the lines on his face deeper. Being unreadable was something Thor had never been to Loki; Loki prided himself on being able to read his brother better than anyone and therefore use it to his advantage. This was not the brother he had mocked during his sparing session what seemed merely two days ago.

Loki quickly stood up and put two paces between them. "What is this? This is not right and now I am certain of it. Tell me the truth, what is the meaning of all this, what has happened? To me or to all around me."

Thor attempted to study his brother's expression - he too was facing surprise in regard to the other - Loki being confused and demanding an explanation from one other than himself was not how things were supposed to work. For a moment he bitterly regretted not forcing his father into forming a plan of action.

He sighed. "My apologies, I would be so shrewd to see you would not fall for a lie... The time that has passed since you last had awareness was longer than you sense it."

"But what of the sewing on my lips?" Loki's voice rose, "If I have been under your care for longer than mere hours why were those blasted strings not removed at once?"

Thor struggled for words before looking at his lap where his hands rested tense on his knees. "We did not know what effect removing them would have. As soon as I sensed you awake and in panic I took care of them myself." _Why, why must we bury ourselves under more lies? I should tell him. Tell him everything and trust him._

"I... I see. It seems fair enough." He relaxed his stance but did not move to rejoin Thor on the bench. "I think perhaps we have overdue our welcome here and I suddenly find myself weary, we'd do well to retire ourselves for the night."

Loki's voice was tightly blank and Thor picked up the lie easily but saw no reason to begrudge Loki his need for privacy, although giving him said privacy sounded like the most dangerous of possibilities at the moment. "We will do as you wish, I apologise for putting you through further strain, brother."

Loki brushed aside his apology, his face all composed neutrality once more. "I wish only to rest. I will see to this matter in the morning."

Once alone in his chambers, Loki set to the task of trying to piece together the new information he had just obtained. Thor's dismissal of the coronation subject had been a sharp blow on his confidence and one he was still planning on researching further. How long could he have been unconscious to move Thor into not caring about his oh-so anticipated day of glory? Something else must have happened in the meanwhile, he would have to work his way around Thor's idiotic friends to fill in the gaps in his memory. What he had planned to bring his brother's arrogance down a considerable notch had to be postponed or maybe even cancelled; and here he had been so thrilled to set this scheme running...

But first...

He moved to the writing desk, making a point to dig deeper in his notes in hope they might trigger what he was missing. He surely did not remember studying Dimension Breaching out of mere curiosity although the topic had once or twice arose his curiosity in the past but such thorough research was cause for something else. Loki stored the papers in one of the desk's drawers and looked around once more, his eye catching the way all his trinkets and small magick objects were now neatly stored on the shelves next to the desk. He reached for one of his most beloved possessions - a glass globe containing a spark of gravitational magick inside - his first successful attempt at storing magickal essence, attained when he was still but an eager beginner in the arts of enchantment; the object was hardly menacing and its power was feeble at best but it was a reminder of how much he had evolved since the time when this small globe was capable of making Thor's eye widen in admiration and maybe the barest hint of intimidation, making all those times Loki was ignored in favour of his brother's quickly improving skill in battle and charisma seem insignificant in comparison, especially since Thor himself never thought his abilities too impressive when compared to his younger brother's enigmatic usage of magick. Loki was very fond of such memories.

He moved the globe in his hand, motivating it into reacting to the magick in his touch...

Thor's steps were slow and heavy as he made his way to his own room, the vaguely distant sound of familiar voices doing little to improve his spirits but he approached said sounds regardless to find the warriors three and Sif near his chambers' door.

"Thor! We came to find you as soon as we heard." Sif said, as all of them moved to circle Thor in the corridor. As Thor nodded, she and the others frowned. "Is everything well? We've heard but rumours speaking of an attack on Loki but I see no patrols searching; has the attacker been identified already?"

"The attack was but an unfortunate accident and the matter is taken cared of, my friends, you need not worry. I can say Loki is unarmed and that's all which matters."

Fandral and Sif eyed Thor's dark expression with curiosity while Hogun remained composed and Volstagg tried for a reassuring smiled. "But what happened? Did someone breach the Palace's guard? How did they reach Loki unnoticed?" Fandral asked.

Thor paused for a long moment before deciding it useless to further mask the issue; he would need his friends’ cooperation after all. "This was the work of my mother."

"The Queen? But we were told--"

"It matters not what you were told, I am giving you the truth and that I trust you to keep for me, especially from Loki."

"Why would your mother poison Loki-- it was poison, as we heard? Why would she do anything like this? She's been devastated ever since Loki came back to Asgard, my poor Queen." said Volstagg in an undignified boom.

Thor sighed and moved a hand to his forehead, rubbing against the latent pressure hammering at his temples. "Let us in, we'd do well to speak more privately." He gestured his friends inside the chambers and followed, firmly shutting the door behind him.

As soon as he turned back to the warriors, questions started raining and Thor held his hands up, "Please, my friends, I have had a long day and wish for no further turmoil. Allow me to speak and I shall explain everything."

Keeping the facts simple, Thor went through his version of the events in the past hours - or, at least, what he was let aware of so far - noticing how his friends' faces tightened when he mentioned having removed Loki's stitches with little hesitation, Thor chose to spare them any reproach; he knew the warriors had cause to doubt Loki's actions and was willing to allow them, and Loki himself, the time to be free of such doubts.

As soon as the narrative was over, the room was silent but for the wheezing of Volstagg’s expectant hard breathing. "So you ask us to play this game as ignorant fools? Loki is to simply be allowed to blend back into Asgard as if nothing happened? You cannot be serious!"

Sif ran to his aid "The way Volstagg puts it might be harsh but he is honest in essence, Thor. Is this the Alfather's rule? Such a thing cannot be wise, surely you see it too."

"I see but the chance to start over, such as my mother must have when she took action. But I am no fool to think two years plagued by so much chaos can simply be erased from our minds and much less that Loki would let himself embrace whatever tale we might tell him. No, I will tell him the truth, eventually, and we shall deal with the matter as we should have the first time around."

"What about his magick?" Sif asked "Does he--"

"My father's decision remains. Loki is stripped of all his magick for as long as he is to be punished for his actions in Midgard."

Hogun spoke up for the first time, "How will you tell Loki the truth? It was the truth that drove him into insanity in the first place."

"That I do not know yet. But I will soon meet with the Alfather and form a plan of action before further damage is caused to any of us."

"Who is to say he won't go down the same path again?" Fandral asked.

"That will not happen. My brother has one thing he did not have the first time."

Fandral raised an eyebrow. "What would that be?"

Thor let through the first smile his friends had seen on him for months, "Me."

Under promise of keeping ignorant silence around Loki, the warriors exited Thor's chambers, who accompanied them to the door, overall feeling in a much better mood - assuring himself aloud had put things in a positive perspective for him and the sense of despair of the past few hours now seemed petty - everything was sure to work for the best.

"I still think Volstagg will fall on his own tongue the first time he opens his mouth around Loki" Fandral teased on their way out.

They all shared a brief laugh at Volstagg's protests before a massive crashing sound echoed through the hall, followed by the slightest undulation of the grounds' footing.

Immediately alert, they all ran towards the sound, a number of guards joining them from several directions. The agitation led back to Loki's bedchambers, where one of the guards was already forcing the door as no reply came from within. Thor ran to the man and pushed him aside, delivering a final blow to the door, which blasted open to reveal a scene that made Thor's heart freeze in place.

Loki was near the bed, his back forming a trembling arch that rose up and down with the force of his ragged breathing. All around him were shatters of glass and a foot-deep depression on the ground forming a circular cavity; his hand, clenched in front of his chest as if in a paralyzed fit, bled heavily from the spots where the glass had penetrated the flesh.

"Loki!"

Loki turned slowly to face Thor, who had not yet dared to move further than the doorway. Being able to now see his face, a small part of Thor wished he could not - Loki's eyes were wild once more but unlike his look of terror upon waking up, this was an expression of anger, pure anger and shock. His teeth were gritted and his neck throbbed deeply with each rapid breath he forced in and out.

"Loki, what--"

"My-- magick," Came the raspy voice "My magick."

Thor took a step closer, raising a hand towards Loki in what he hoped was a reassuring manner "Loki, please just--"

"MY MAGICK!" Loki yelled, tears of rage welling up in his eyes. "MY MAGICK IS GONE! I CANNOT DO THE SMALLEST THING! IT’S LEFT ME!" His eyes unfocused only to focus back on the small crowd of people behind Thor. “BEGONE, ALL OF YOU! HAVE YOU NOT BEEN ENTERTAINED ENOUGH FOR ONE DAY?!” As Thor ran to him, Loki unclenched his wounded hand and his voice broke down between dry sobs. “It is all wrong, this is all wrong, what is happening?” Thor gathered his rigid form into his arms and Loki moved his hand to squeeze at Thor’s bare arm, the glass digging between them “You are all lying this is not possible, you lied, someone did this to me, someone did this to me, my magick— all I had, my magick—” As his tone finally gave way to a string of senseless murmuring, Loki’s body shut down as well and he fell boneless into Thor’s embrace, burring his face into his brother’s hair and forcing his mind into peaceful numbness.


End file.
